Hunted
by Selenahaileen
Summary: For 3.5 years she's been on the run. Running from her former life as an assassin of HYDRA, chased by both the law and the organisation that had once been her home..What happens when she is captured by S.H.I.E.L.D., and a man with an eyepatch offers her a chance to set things right? Will she be able to trust them, and they her, in the long run? - OC
1. Tokyo, Japan

**Costa Rica: 2 weeks – 16 casualties  
Mali: 1 day – 21 casualties  
Latvia:** 16 days - 3 casualties  
 **Iceland:** 5 days - no casualties  
 **Russia:** 1 years, 1 month - no casualties  
 **Madagascar:** 4 months - no casualties  
 **Japan**

The moment the lecture was over I gathered my books and left the room quickly. It was the last hour of the day, and I was in a hurry as always.  
"See you tomorrow, Mitsui-chan!" I looked over my shoulder and plastered a fake smile on my face at the sight of the brown-haired girl that waved at me from the entrance of the classroom before she continued her way in the opposite direction. The long hall had slowly started to fill with students, one big chattering mass. After some effort I didn't stand out anymore, I had painted my hair a black colour, a common appearance in these regions. Also, it combined well with my eyes. The clothes I was wearing were especially picked out for this: a bordeaux so-called nude shirt and dark blue jeans, a light grey poncho, a chequered scarf that held white, bordeaux and black squares, black fingerless gloves and black trainers. Contrary to most common schools this university didn't have demanded uniforms, surprisingly. Most people argued I was from another region because of my slight accent (my Japanese was a bit rusty), but I didn't bother to change that status since people had grown used to me. The girls at school were quite unobservant when it came to such things, is my best guess.  
 _Zzzzzzz_  
Something buzzed in my pocket as I pushed some of the books in my locker (which was white, like nearly everything in that building). My cerulean eyes closed for a moment in annoyance, but I chose to ignore it.  
 _Zzzzzzz_  
With a groan I took the phone out, scanning the messages I had received.  
 ** _where are you? be here it 30 minutes  
JJ_** _  
_And the most recent one:  
 ** _skip that, you've got 10. new order  
JJ_** **  
**Walking all the way would at least take twenty, but since I had no money for a cab I didn't have a choice but to run. _Dammit Jack, I'm going to kill you._ Whilst stuffing my books in my bag I made my way to the exit, dodging the other students. I'd promised Annaisha - Kouumoto-chan - we'd study in one of the libraries (yes, plural! There are at least four as far as I know) but _unfortunately_ that'd have to wait.  
 _Saves me an explanation for my absence._

She'd understand, this happened more often.  
All the way to the fence that surrounded the dark grey university buildings (.. of all colours..) and enormous campus I managed to maintain a steady walking pace. Slow enough to not raise the impression that I was running, but fast enough to, once out of sight, speed up to running in one fluent movement. Only once I'd dared to be late when Jack was expecting me. It had been an unpleasant situation, he'd made me clean the entire place. It's filled with the dirt of half Tokyo.

* * *

Without panting I finally reached a 2-storey building, exactly 9 minutes and 26 seconds later. In fact, my muscles were glad for this extra stretch. The building appeared to be the same as any other apartment block, with yellow brick walls, red doors and window-frames and a flat roof; except that, facing the street, there were two large garage doors next to a regular sized door. The latter I opened, barely wasting time in putting away my bag and black leather jacket. The interior couldn't possibly differ more from the exterior: fossil grey walls, cement flooring, and where normally the couch or kitchen would be there were large machines. Nearly the whole base floor was dedicated to the garage (because that's what it was), the bearing walls had been replaced by pillars of reinforced concrete. Workbenches covered the length of the walls, crammed with tools, metal and spare parts. And then there were the cars.  
"You're late." a man with a Peter Weller accent grumbled from underneath a black Bentley Mulsanne whilst I gathered some of the tools I might need after I would've changed clothes upstairs.  
"I arrived exactly in time," I responded calmly. "Ten minutes, just as you asked."  
After having dealt with Jack for years I had grown accustomed to his bright personality. He was a relatively small man, with an overall oval body shape. That he seldom took a shower was indicated by the black, greasy hair that reached his shoulders and a stubble beard. He fit in the garage picture perfectly, him being covered in the same substances along the lines of dust, oil and whatever not. His big, indurate hands however were capable of delicate work, and his brown eyes could spot even the finest details. "Whatever. A customer brought a Bugatti Chiron a quarter ago, special order. It needs to be fixed in ten days so get it done will ya."  
"A Chiron? But those cost more than this entire place. They must be unusually desperate if they bring it here."  
He mumbled some inaudible things under his breath in response. _And so far the conversation of my day._ I raised an eyebrow now I recognized the grey beauty in the centre of the garage. An 8.0-liter sixteen-cylinder engine, four turbos, top speed of 261 mph, probably the world's first 1500 hp sports car. I wasn't that much into cars, but since I worked with them on a daily basis I had learnt the difference between the usual and the high-quality cars – and this one was definitely a royal.  
"Only the rear brakes need to be checked – I want it to be perfect ya hear me? This customer could mean the future of this company!" _Of course. It'd be a disaster if one of the richest families in Tokyo had fourteen cars at their disposal instead of fifteen._ My sarcasm-filled thoughts however were interrupted by a text message. _  
Zzzzzzz  
_ With a hand full of tools I took out my phone; it was Annaisha who'd sent it. _What now..._

 ** _I've been captured by the boys from the Karate Club, I might or might not have broken something.. I have to pay off by cleaning the mats. I don't think they'll let me out of here soon.  
AK_**

 ** _Seriously, I told you not to play with the sticks. I've been called to work, but if I have to free you you'll text me.  
Even though you deserve it.  
SM_**

 ** _Aren't you just a little ray of sunshine. They're not asking for money anyways, they need me in the team. As long as it's just minor chores it's fine I guess...  
AK_**

"Break is over! Get back to work!" Jack shouted.

 ** _Keep me informed.  
SM_**

* * *

Too many hours later I decided to call it a day. I had the miraculous ability to get oil smeared all over my face, and this time was no exception. Wiping most of the grease from the screwdrivers and the shifting spanner I kicked the skateboard underneath a table.  
"Jack! I'm done for now!" I shouted over the loud rock music. It was a good band, but why on earth did it always have to be so loud?!  
"You done with the Chevron?" He was huddled over a piece of welding in the corner of the shop.  
"All set!"  
Not awaiting his inaudible answer I made my way out of there. I'd spent the whole afternoon checking the break system of the Bugatti, and the fan in one of the other cars had been replaced. Working at the garage was time-eating, but it also helped clearing my mind. A small door on the side of the room gave entrance to a smaller one, a desk and chair crammed in a corner underneath a forest of paperwork, and small wooden stairs which I clambered quickly without casting as much as a glance at the paper mountain. Upstairs the building parted into two apartments, the one on the right being mine. Warmth hit me like a wall, the central heating boiler on the left that was rumbling steadily being the cause.  
My apartment wasn't very spacey, about 20 square metres – the smaller equivalent of a western 1-bedroom apartment – with a kitchen, living room and bedroom in one. The wooden flooring had warmed up thanks to the luxury floor heating. Before I had moved in here the walls had already been painted in the light-yellow colour they were, with red leaves here and there. There was one window on the right, a low table in front and a bed/couch opposite of it. Next to it was the small kitchen, and one door led to the bathroom – a bathtub, toilet and hand basin. Nothing more, nothing less.

After I'd changed clothes – at the moment I was wearing grey sweatpants with a black shirt – I took my phone out of the pocket of my jacket on the floor. I'd received several messages from Annaisha about how sore her fingers were, and I it'd probably be best to text her back.

 ** _How bad was it in the end?  
SM_**

 ** _I had to scrub the mats for hours! I think my fingers have been replaced by enormous blisters. Lucky me I have paid off my debt now. By the way, I took a peek in the gym, did you know so many cute boys are doing gymnastics?!  
AK_**

 ** _Let me guess. you quit karate and have joined the gymnastics Club.  
SM_**

 ** _Aww, you're not being fair. I've wanted to do gymnastics my entire life! The people are SO kind. Why don't you come with me tomorrow, so you can see it yourself?  
AK_**

 ** _No thanks.  
SM_**

 ** _Of course you will! I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. I've got still some work to catch up with this evening and some blisters to tend.  
AK_**

As you might have guessed, Annaisha is the ultimate tsundere drama queen. I'd been here for about 2 years and in that amount of time she'd changed her club twelve times already. With a small, this time true smile I turned off my phone, and instead gathered my books.

* * *

"Sir, we've located her current whereabouts."  
The tall, sturdy man in the centre of the dimly lit room clasped his hands behind his back.  
"Where?"  
A smaller man behind a computer read the report.  
"Tokyo, Japan." On the projector an ID appeared of a black-haired girl. "Mitsui, Sakura Kazumi. 24 years old, Japanese. Currently working in car maintenance and studying at the Tokyo university of Science. One of our informants spotted her entering a garage run by one Jack Jenkins, 43 years old, American."  
"And the government?"  
"We have a guy in CIRO, he'll cover everything up."  
The sturdy man took a few steps forward to the screen. The light sharpened his bald facial features. A long, pink scar ran from the outer corner of his left eye across his cheekbone and lips to a point just underneath the corner of his mouth. His nose had once been shaped equal to the beak of a hawk, but it had been broken enough times to have given it an oddly crooked look. The dark brown eyes scanned the map that had been placed next to the ID, and slowly a grin spread across his face. The sharp, yellow teeth shimmered in the dark.  
"Prepare the troops. Our little fox won't escape this time."

* * *

A high-pitched peep harshly penetrated my dream and drove sleep from me like a harsh wind blowing away the clouds. As I opened my eyes I immediately located the source; my laptop in the corner of the desk. A dim green light pulsated from the screen, but I didn't need more stimulation to put the alarm off; the 21,000 Hz tune was awfully painful. Pushing the sheets off I stumbled to the laptop and immediately inserted the passcode in order to make it stop. As soon as it disappeared I breathed a sigh of relief, and rubbed my eyes wearily.  
 _D*** this thing, it's 2:26 AM..._ Suddenly the bells in my mind started ringing. _Wait, the alarm went off. THE alarm went off. What the- you can't be serious._  
With one finger on the touchscreen I shifted the screen to my personal creation. A black/green map appeared, with symbols of various agencies on the right. The standard: FBI, CIA, MI, NPA (Japan), CIRO (Japan). And then there was another underneath. A red skull with octopus arms.  
And it was pulsating.  
The blood in my veins froze. _Sh**. Not them again. How on earth...  
_ I opened a tactical map. Ever since Mali I had placed a mole inside the software of all the agencies that posed a risk to me. The mole had enabled me to set up an alarm system that would activate if anyone would use a trigger word in combination with my current hiding place in their communications system.

The tactical map showed the outlines of Tokyo, my current hideout indicated by a red dot. Around it, in a circle formation, were about a dozen triangles, the nearest only two streets away. And closing in.  
My heartrate went through the roof. _  
Sanguin. Sh**.  
_ My instinct took over, and without further hesitation I jumped up and ran to the closet. The lowest drawers were stuffed with rather unusual items: one contained a black tight backpack, the other weapons. And not just the standard gun, also some throwing knifes, wires and other technical try-outs. I'd been prepared for a situation like this, so everything I needed had already been packed. It took me less than half a minute to get into a familiar black jumpsuit, tie my jet-black hair in a ponytail, strap the backpack onto my back and attach the weapons to different parts of my body in a way that wouldn't be overly suspicious.  
I'd done this before.  
I had survived.  
I could do this again.

I sent the tactical map to a special watch I was wearing before also placing the laptop in the backpack.  
 _Two helicopters, five cars, two ground teams._  
The silence brought me to a state of utter alertness, and I remembered the man I'd been working for, still sleeping in the other apartment. I couldn't take him with me, that was out of the question. A normal agency would cover everything up and prevent further casualties – but this wasn't a 'normal agency'. This was Sanguin. And in the competition they were running letting anyone escape was unforgivable. He didn't stand a chance.  
 _I'm sorry, Jack.  
_ Putting his inevitable fate in a far corner of my mind I turned to the window and looked outside. _No heli's in sight yet, they're letting the ground troops do it this time – that should give me a head start._  
The window was fairly small, half a square metre, but since it ended on a flat roof I didn't need more space than that. Slowly opening it I first put my feet through, clinging onto the lintel, and then went through it with the rest. It was still dark outside (though light pollution ensured visibility at any time), and the temperature had dropped to about 10 degrees Celsius due to the cold north wind. A quick look on my watch told me that the ground troops had penetrated the garage. _Time to get running.  
_ It was only a matter of seconds before the ground troops would reach the apartments, and when that happened the helicopters and cars would also be on the move. Staying up above gave me the advantage, since I would remain out of the cars' reach. The helicopters were located in the opposite direction, therefore the longer I would go unseen, the more distance there would be between us.  
Staying low, I began to run under the cover of the night.

* * *

"Sir, the ground troops have found a man on the first floor. The target is presumably on the move."  
They were sitting in the second helicopter, following the red dot on the screen with their eyes. And a night vision camera showed a white figure running several metres above street level. _So far the surprise element.  
_ Scar-face took out a communication device.  
"Alpha four, block the streets. Beta one, diagonal formation in pursuit. We need her alive."  
 _"Aye sir."_

* * *

One great thing about the outskirts of Tokyo was the attached flat roofs. I was currently running from rooftop to rooftop, with the helicopters on my heels. No doubt the cars were also following in a parallel course. I was fast, thanks to the daily training I'd kept up, but the choppers were closing in rapidly. I needed to ditch them, favourably without causing any more casualties. But that wasn't the main problem: I was running out of houses. The end of the street was near, and my watch showed me there were two cars waiting for me.  
 _There's a subway two blocks away. If I can reach it I might be able to get rid of these guys. The average speed of a Shinkansen is 270 - 300 km/h, that of a Bell UH-1 Iroquois (which is powered by a single turboshaft engine, with two-blade main and tail rotors) only about 200._ Now I had a target. To the left the street was becoming narrower at one point, which I would be able to cross with an aimed jump, but upon spotting a fire-escape I realised that wouldn't be necessary.  
A train would leave in exactly 6 minutes, and here in Japan trains left on the second. I needed to get rid of the heli's first. As I calculated the distance between me and them I spotted a house ahead that was taller than the others, resulting in an obstacle in the form of a high brick wall. _Perfect._ From one of the pockets of my jacket I took a small device. It was a flat, circular object, the outer layer was made of different metals. Meanwhile I was heading straight for the wall. _Three.. Two.. One.._ By using the horizontal speed I ran up, lifting myself several metres in the air and stopping the forward momentum. The reflexes of the pilot in the nearest heli weren't fast enough to keep up with the sudden stop, resulting it to hover next to me for a millisecond in which I was able to jam the device through one of the windows, shattering the glass in the process.  
I landed safely on the cold roof, but that couldn't be said of the heli. It hovered forward, its passengers highly confused, before beams of electricity shot out of the device, destroyed the heli's systems and tasered the people. _Welcome in the game,_ I thought grimly. Even though they'd probably survive the crash, they were the walking dead already. _Another five casualties added to my list._

* * *

"Target has descended to street-level, sir. She's heading for the station." Angrily scar-face took the comn system from the messenger. "Then make sure she doesn't get there! Block all roads! Ground troops, go after her! Don't you dare to lose her again. She's not the only danger in the world." Despite the obvious threat the soldiers faces remained indifferent. That's how they'd been taught. Scar-face scoffed inwardly. These were nothing than disposable objects, pawns, in the game. One mistake and they'd never be heard from again, and no one would ask any questions. The girl on the other hand was a different case. In the game she was the queen, not unmissable but certainly worth sacrificing some pawns, bishops and knights for. This girl, however, had slowly started to become an irksome factor, refusing to cooperate. His hands were itching to take hold of her neck and slowly wrap them tighter.. But no, his superiors wanted her alive. And unfortunately, in this game he was a rook. And kings and queens stand above rooks.  
"Ground troops are closing in. 200 metres to the station."  
 _Do really two more take the place of the one cut-off head in her case?_

* * *

Using the diversion the crash had caused I had taken the liberty to descend several fire-escapes to get off the roof at last. Because of the speed my fingers burned where the gloves didn't protect the skin, and they tightened into fists. With the cars on my heels I had to run all the way to the train station without getting run over by the opposite traffic or getting shot. The first caused more of a problem than the latter.  
The train station was only a mere 100 metres away, and still the gunners hadn't hit. I even started to feel a spark of victory. But one should not celebrate too early, so I had to remain cautious. They could not fire however when there were citizens around, and that was my advantage. The train station is namely a public building, and Tokyo was online 24/7.  
Once inside my heart rate slowed a little; a train had just started to fill out. To avoid being visible to the security camera's I pulled the hood over my head before continuing in a slower pace. The yellow light shone on the white walls and tiled flooring, the people's faces wearily underneath them. Once again, it was only 2:34 AM yet. It was a miracle that there actually were people around at this late (or early?) hour. From the moment I'd seen the garage being surrounded adrenaline had spread throughout my entire body, and after the sprint just now I was fully awake. The next train leaving was exactly the most useful one: the Nozomi to Osaka. It was the fastest of the three types of shinkansens – that was, it stopped at less stations.  
My head turned at the sound of tumult behind me – the ground troops had entered the main hall, freaking out the midnight travellers. But they wouldn't be able to reach me in time, and they also seemed to notice that.  
Their anxious, helmeted faces were the last thing I saw before the doors closed.

* * *

At the sight of the city down below scar-face planted a fist on the dashboard of the helicopter. "I _told_ you not to let her get _inside!_ ", he basically screamed "Now arrest her before she reaches that train!" One of the passengers leant closer to another. _"Is this normal?",_ he whispered as they watched scar-face shout threats into the comn. _"No. Usually she wipes everyone out before she escapes_.", was the reply.  
"-SHE MADE IT IN TIME? HOW COULD YOU NOT HAVE STOPPED HER? WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE WAS TOO FAST AND THERE WERE TOO MUCH WITNESSES? SINCE WHEN ARE WITNESSES A PROBLEM?! YEAH WELL, I PROMISE YOU THAT THIS ENTIRE-" Scar-face was literally fuming, rumours went that he'd failed a mission three times already, and this was the fourth. "-IMMEDIATELY GOING TO FIND OUT WHERE SHE'S GOING! AND NO EXCUSES! I WANT HER NEXT LOCATION! I'M NOT GOING TO LOSE THE CHALLENGE!" When he threw down the comn, the two passengers as well as the pilot acted as if they'd heard nothing, and prayed they weren't the next target.

 _Japan: 2 years 1 month; six casualties_


	2. To: Ryuu

**A/n: 51 views in one day, I feel honoured! Phoenix921996, thanks for the review! I'll try to keep up the standards, enjoy.**

May 5th, 2016, 2:43 AM **  
** **I need your help.**

May 5th, 2016, 2:54 AM **  
** **Good morning too. Passport?**

May 5th, 2016, 2:54 AM **  
** **187\. Let's be creative with the name this time. And what exactly is so good about this morning?**

May 5th, 2016, 2:56 AM **  
** **Hm. So it's the old guys eh? How many gone?**

May 5th, 2016, 2:58 AM **  
** **Six. And no, it's another subdivision trying to impress. You'd think they'd be more careful after Madagascar. Are you making any progress?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:01 AM  
 **Is Janice Harper anything?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:01 AM  
 **Janice? Srsly?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:03 AM **  
** **How about Skylar?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:04 AM **  
** **Better. I'm off in 2h 10m so you have some time.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:07 AM  
 **Whereto first?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:07 AM **  
** **DC**

May 5th, 2016, 3:08 AM **  
** **You're sure? Even after..**

May 5th, 2016, 3:13 AM **  
** **Yes Ryuu, even after. It's an unpredictable move, the last country they'll expect me to go to. And even so I'll probably remain on the other side. I have no intentions on being within a 100 km range.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:14 AM **  
** **If you say so..  
Any difference from last time?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:16 AM **  
** **I think I'll go with brown this time. Give me a sec.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:41 AM **  
** **Still there?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:42 AM **  
** **You call that a sec? You're getting slower.  
Will you please send me a pic this time? Are you wearing make-up? I can't tell.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:44 AM **  
** **Shut up.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:44 AM **  
** **Or just a name?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:44 AM **  
** **When will it be finished?**

May 5th, 2016, 3:44 AM **  
** **That's not nice, you know.  
It'll be done within time, ma'am. You can fill in the blanks yourself afterwards.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:45 AM **  
** **If you'd be sitting next to me I would've slapped you, just so you know.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:47 AM **  
** **You're able to kill a man in more than 50 ways with only a pencil, and the only thing you come up with is slapping? How pathetic.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:47 AM **  
** **I don't do killings anymore, remember.**

May 5th, 2016, 3:48 AM **  
** **Wow, you actually said the word. I didn't think I'd live to see that day.**

May 5th, 2016, 2:58 AM **  
** **It's been 3.5 years Ryuu. Get over it.**

May 5th, 2016, 2:58 AM **  
** **If looks could kill though..**

May 5th, 2016, 3:48 AM **  
** **Ryuu**

May 5th, 2016, 3:48 AM **  
** **All right, all right, I'm on it**

May 5th, 2016, 6:02 AM **  
** **I sent the data through to you, you still there?**

May 5th, 2016, 6:04 AM **  
** **Just in time, I'm in the terminal. Average security, just my luck.**

May 5th, 2016, 6:23 AM **  
** **.. made it through?**

May 5th, 2016, 6:27 AM **  
** **Barely. Had some trouble with the knifes, as usual. And she was wearing** ** _gloves._** **I owe you one, this passport's brilliant.**

May 5th, 2016, 6:27 AM **  
** **You owe me five times I recall.**

May 5th, 2016, 6:28 AM **  
** **Mali doesn't count. I got d*** near killed that day.**

May 5th, 2016, 6:28 AM **  
** **That wasn't my fault, they hacked the airlines.**

May 5th, 2016, 6:30 AM **  
** **Well, whatever. Wait, isn't it 5:30 PM over there?**

May 5th, 2016, 6:30 AM **  
** **Yeah, you're living tomorrow just so you know. And you don't interrupt anything or whatever, I'm pretty much a no-lifer.**

May 5th, 2016, 6:31 AM **  
** **.. I almost feel sorry for you.**

May 5th, 2016, 6:31 AM **  
** **Don't you have a flight to catch?**

May 5th, 2016, 6:31 AM **  
** **Yes mom.**

May 5th, 2016, 6:32 AM **  
** **.. touché  
Text me when you arrive 'kay?**

With a sigh I turned off my phone at the stewardesses demand. The man next to me also set his laptop on stand-by, and had to actually place it on his lap before she was content. The 'she' in question had dark brown hair, which was pulled back in the obligatory knot, and she was wearing the blue top and skirt of the airlines. Her deep brown eyes studied her fake nails for a moment before she moved on to check the next row down the aisle. The plane was filled entirely, but one woman had cancelled her flight a la minute, giving me the possibility to purchase her seat for a much cheaper price. And now, about 15 minutes later, I was sitting in between a man and woman, on the unfortunate middle seat. The new clothes I'd changed into were a tad warm, a white cardigan, ripped jeans and black trainers. I slumped a bit further, relief washed over me as the plane took off, pushing everyone back in their seats. I'd escaped another time. It was a strange experience though – for two years and a month I'd been able to remain under their radar. Fortunately Ryuu still had his phone nearby – it had surprised me he had responded so fast.

We'd first made contact in Costa Rica – eight days after my escape. The woman I was living with at that time was also my black market-contact, able to provide me with everything I needed – everything except official documents. No documents, no flights. When I explained my problem to her she'd nodded kindly. She was an a little overweight, 62-year-old Spanish lady, her kind face decorated with black and grey hair. No-one would expect her to be involved in any illegal practices, and that made her the perfect person.  
"Quizá sabo una persona..", she'd mumbled.  
"Quien?", I'd demanded, but she shook her head.  
"No no, hay que ser paciente."  
"Pero-"  
She turned to face me and pointed the spoon she was using for cooking at me, tomato sauce dripping off: "Ya que la pacencia es una virtud importante en la vida."  
Exactly two days later I'd received a message.

October 16th, 2012, 4:31 PM **  
** **Hello. I understood you needed my help?**

Not willing to take any risks I'd gone to Matilda (the Spanish lady), and showed her the number: "Quien es esa persona?"  
She was doing the laundry, and when she cast a glance at the screen of my phone she smiled. "Es un amigo mío. Le dió tu número de teléfono porque puede ayudarte en tu huida."  
"No es _fuga,_ yo escapé.", I mumbled.

October 16th, 2012, 4:43 PM **  
** **Can you?**

October 16th, 2012, 4:44 PM **  
** **That depends. I was told something about a passport..?**

October 16th, 2012, 4:45 PM **  
** **Can I trust you? You could be literally everyone.**

October 16th, 2012, 4:45 PM **  
** **The woman who gave me your number trusts me. But you might as well never trust me, you don't know me after all. I could be the president of the US, the queen of Britain or your neighbour.**

October 16th, 2012, 4:46 PM  
 **That's one whole list of possible people less.  
World country list, can you arrange a passport for 105?**

October 16th, 2012, 4:46 PM **  
** **Let me see. Can YOU be trusted?**

October 16th, 2012, 4:47 PM **  
** **I'm the one on the run, you know.**

October 16th, 2012, 4:47 PM **  
** **Oh, I like you already. Let me see. 105 huh? Should be easy.**

October 16th, 2012, 4:47 PM **  
** **What can I call you?**

October 16th, 2012, 4:48 PM **  
** **Hmm. I've always loved Japanese names, so how about Ryuu?**

October 16th, 2012, 4:48 PM **  
** **Ryuu as in Dragon Spirit?**

October 16th, 2012, 4:48 PM **  
** **Just a number is so easy to trace. And it's no fun. Now what's your name?**

October 16th, 2012, 4:49 PM **  
** **Call me Kitsune, then.**

October 16th, 2012, 4:49 PM **  
** **Very well, little fox.**

That's basically how it started. After the blunder of Mali I'd scolded him more than necessary, but I'd lost my confidence in him. But it turned out he was shocked too, and within a day we made up again. Ever since he'd arranged the official documents, and I'd given him sort of a social life. He was a weird guy, but he was probably the only person in the world besides Hydra who knew parts of my past, and whom I could talk to whenever I needed company. We had made three rules: **1)** never mention the other to outsiders, **2)** when you get caught, delete this thread, and **3)** no visual contact. This was for safety, since either of us has done enough illegal things to spend ten lifetimes in prison. And even so, by now I only knew in which time zone he was living, his gender, that he had a degree in English and was brilliant with computers. And that he was a no-lifer.  
But there was no point in worrying over that: with a 12-hour flight ahead and my phone in airplane mode there wasn't much I could do to change the status quo, and besides, Sanguin wouldn't recover for the next few days. The man next to me had picked up his work on the laptop again, and the woman on my other side was watching _Into the Woods._ I figured I might as well do just that (not the _Into the Woods-_ part). After a hectic morning like this some rest was more than welcome.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We've already started our descent procedure into Washington airport. We expect to land at 7:18 PM, 13 minutes before our scheduled time. If you want to adjust your watch, it is 6:18 AM in Washington DC now. The weather is a bit overcast and the temperature is 9 degrees Celsius. We wish you a pleasant stay in the city and we hope to see you again very soon. On behalf of all our crew, thank you for choosing our company as your airline today."

* * *

A good 12.5 hours and four movies later the aircraft at last started its descend. It was 6:18 AM, May 5th (again). This time zone-business was something I preferred not to think about too much, it only confused me more about the fact that after the flight it was _the same morning_. Slowly the cloud masses made place for the lay-out of the city. The closer we got, the clearer all the different buildings, vehicles and eventually people became. A city like Washington DC was already up at 5, and everybody was in a hurry to get to work simultaneously, creating massive blocks in the traffic flow.  
The moment the 'belts on' sign turned off I rose from my seat, my muscles yearning for a stretch, but had to wait for the woman, who turned out to be oblivious to the fact that there were two people waiting for her to finish packing up all that she had not used during the flight.  
A quarter later – since everyone in the plane wanted to get out as fast as possible it created an enormous chaos each and every flight again – I was walking down a long corridor in the arrival section of the airport. Backpack slung over one shoulder, I gratefully stretched my arms above my head. The ventilators blew a cool, refreshing wind through the white hall, simultaneously carrying away the both comforting and off-putting airplane-scent.  
All of the sudden I remembered the request Ryuu had made, and I took my phone from my backpack to switch off the airplane mode. I'd received 9 messages; all from Ryuu. _You really are an impatient one, aren't you?_ But as I went through them my initial smile turned into a frown.

May 4th, 2016, 9:36 PM **  
** **Waiting for a plane to land is sooo boring you know.**

May 4th, 2016, 10:15 PM **  
** **Right now I'm watching you fly across the Pacific.**

May 4th, 2016, 10:43 PM **  
** **This. Is. Taking. So. Long.**

May 4th, 2016, 11:01 PM **  
** **How long until you're there?**

May 4th, 2016, 11:24 PM **  
** **Wait a minute, someone's out there.**

May 4th, 2016, 11:24 PM **  
** **I never have visitors, this is weird. My neighbour lives 10 miles down the road..**

May 4th, 2016, 11:24 PM **  
** **I don't trust this, as I'm texting I can see black SUV's outside**

May 4th, 2016, 11:25 PM **  
** **Shit**

May 4th, 2016, 11:25 PM **  
** **I'm sorry little fox**

 ** _This number doesn't exist. Please try again._**

I was doomed.  
He had sent them seven hours ago, more than enough time for someone with a little knowledge about phones to track my signal. Ryuu had more information about me than anyone, including my current whereabouts, meaning that if he hadn't been able to wipe the data I was walking straight into a trap. Black SUV's: most likely an intelligence agency, so they would take on a more subtle approach. I quickly scanned the surroundings as I pocketed my phone. This would be the perfect location: no place to hide, and the large group of people that were my cover could very well be used by agents to blend in.

I decided to slow my pace just enough to reach the back of the group, out of precaution. It might be only paranoia, but if there was one thing I'd learnt in the past was that you can never be too careful, especially with these guys. CIA, NSA, FBI? Something told me that if any of those had attempted to create a trap there would have been men in body armour and helmets storming through the halls. It was far from subtle, but it was effective – most of the time. Numbers didn't assure victory, after all.  
Down the corridor there was a more open space: the midfield concourse. From there it was only a short walk to the main concourse, and out of the airport. Happy with the extra space the ex-passengers spread out a little, their suitcases rolling after them over the floor, resulting in a constant rumbling, combined with multiple footsteps and softened conversations.  
A look over my shoulder – no one sprang out as suspicious. _Perhaps I'm being paranoid.. After all, that they caught Ryuu does not immediately mean that they know everything about me. Who knows, he might even have succeeded in wiping the data and faced the men in suits empty handed. Instead of skipping to conclu-_  
A small prick in the neck interrupted my train of thoughts, and my pace faltered. _What in the world-_ In a reflex my hand went up, and my fingers curled around something the shape and size of a needle before pulling it out. For a few seconds I stared dumbly at the object – somehow a feeling of weariness flowed through me instead of the expected adrenaline, making it hard to identify the object. Confusion.. Drowsiness..  
Then it struck me that a heavy sedative had entered my systems. _You should've been more watchful, should've been more careful! You stupid idiot, one sniper is enough to take you out?!_  
The feeling in my legs started to disappear, and my arms were trembling. _They caught me.. They caught me.. After all this time.._ Just as my balance failed, a pair of strong hands took hold of my arm. _What- Who- No, get off me!_ I did an attempt to lift my arm – and failed miserably. This thing was too strong, my arm too heavy.

My mind couldn't keep up with the events, my vision was blurry and things were hard to process. The hands- the person led me somewhere. Outside. There were some voices, and next I knew I was down onto something familiar smelling – leather, yes, leather. It rumbled nicely, almost soothingly. _A car. This is a car. I'm in a car._ One thought penetrated the fogginess in my mind; it was also the last thing I remembered before I surrendered to sleep.  
And it wasn't a nice word.


	3. Deal

**A/n: Hi guys, sorry for the wait! Things have been quite busy around here.. Anyways, thank you so much for all the reviews, follows and favourites - you've truly made my week.** **Phoenix921996** **: Thank you for the reviews, I'm so glad someone's actually enjoying my story! After the second review I re-read the entire part, and I'm sorry if the outcome who 'I' is in the story disappoints you, or anyone for that matter, I didn't intend to raise false hope. And yes, it is called a shoutout, you're very welcome ).** **TheQueen1615** **: Oh, I didn't even realise that at first, but now I saw it too! Thanks for the inspiration though (you'll see later in the chapter).** **PondLake** **: Thanks very much, I hope this chapter will not disappoint you! And at last, to Belladonna Dixon, Kuroppoi Kitsune (btw love the name),** **Liz10s** **,** **TotalGeek17** **,** **dunrheanna** **,** **golden-priestess** **,** **dhnysports88** **, Che Kay Liv,** **termapie** **and** **webkinz2588** **, thanks for following/favouriting this fic!**  
 **Here's at last the next chapter, and there will be new people introduced. I hope I kept them in character - if not, feel free to correct me if necessary. Enjoy!**

It was unpleasantly cold, my fingers felt like they could freeze off any moment. Subconsciously I tried to move my knees up to my chest in order to stay warm and return to the blissful state of unconsciousness I'd been in – and nearly fell off whatever I'd been sleeping on.  
 _Wait a sec._  
Ignoring the protest of my groggy mind I opened my eyes. The blinding white light from the ceiling forced me to avert my gaze to the wall.  
White, grey, white, grey. White walls. Grey flooring. White ceiling. Grey textile.  
After the black spot disappeared I could see that the room I was in was relatively small, and held besides the stretcher – the iron bar jabbing my spine confirmed that – only a small table and two chairs. White. The opposite wall was made of glass panels, with a door in the centre.  
Where the h***.. _  
_Reluctantly the drowsiness gave up, allowing me to think and observe more clearly while it slumbered in a far corner of my mind. My limbs still felt heavy after who knows how many hours of sleep, but now at least I was able to sit up straight. Two 180° security cameras in the corners of the ceiling on either side of the door followed every movement. Beyond the glass wall there was an abandoned corridor visible – black and grey. No windows.  
Memories concerning what had preceded returned to the conscious part of my brain at last, causing me to curse inwardly. I'd been taken down.  
My current situation: they'd taken my backpack, so no resources. I was still wearing the same cardigan, jeans and trainers, but the weapons as well as the bracelets which I could disassemble and use the materials of as tools had vanished. I had to give them that they knew what they were doing. In this room there was no place to hide, nor anything that could be used as a weapon if you left out hand-to-hand combat skills. Even the table top was too thin to withstand anything – one blow and it'd part in two.  
 _I should've been more cautious, those two years in Japan really have left me off-guard. If only I'd paid a little more attention none of this would've happened. To be defeated this easily after that Tokyo Drift-style escape – that's simply unacceptable. And Ryuu.. These guys are dangerous._  
The chilliness had started to spread throughout my entire body, therefore instead of musing over my omissions I decided to use whatever time I had left to generate warmth by movement. At first I stood a little unsteadily at my feet – not that I'd let security see that, whomever was watching received a deadly glare instead. My muscles were a little sore, so I did a few loose, basic stretch exercises: upper and lower arms, ankles, legs, shoulders. Especially my back was having a hard time; I lacked knowledge of how long I'd been there, but apparently it was long enough for the stretcher to have ruined my back.  
This I had done for about four minutes when something moved in the corridor; four guards walked up to the door. I stopped moving and chose to observe from the other side of the room. One of them inserted a code (3-9-4-5-1-9-0, but that didn't get me anywhere) and two of them calmly entered the room.  
Bulletproof vests, a handgun each combined with an assault rifle.  
"You, come with us.", one ordered, and nudged towards the door with the rifle.  
Gloves that slow the trigger movement.  
The other held out a pair of metal handcuffs. _You've got to be kidding._  
I had about a hundred remarks ready, but decided against speaking. The more obedient I behaved, the less they'd expect being overpowered. Pulling my face in a neutral expression I walked towards them and held out my arms. He put them too tight, cutting off the blood circulation in my hands. Once I stepped through the door I saw the corridor appeared to continue for quite a distance, passing several rooms similar to the one I'd been in. The two guards outside lead the way, the other two were just behind me. Getting marched down a corridor dramatically is apparently a method to intimidate the prisoner. _Funny.  
_ We didn't pass any windows, but the very few people we passed all stared at the parade without any decency. Once we passed a middle-age woman whose eyes nearly bulged out, her mouth agape. Just to look if something would happen I started to grin menacingly. I don't think she had any blood in her body after that.  
Some of the people we passed didn't look like they belonged here, wearing office clothing and carrying files and cases. The others I'm sure were from Men in Black.  
At last we entered an empty corridor, without any office doors or windows or anything. No people around, the security cameras I need not to worry about, if my plan worked out I'd be gone before they'd reach me. Slowly I counted down in my head.  
 _Eight. Seven. Six._  
The guards in front of me made a more relaxed impression than back at the 'prison'. _  
Five. Four.  
_ A look over my shoulders told me there was no-one else within sight. _  
Three. Two. One._  
Within a millisecond I sprang into action, knocking out the left back guard with both hands. Before any of them could respond the second guy was also floored. Two down, two to go. The front guards had meanwhile raised their guns, but I'd seen the barrel of a gun enough times already, and lived through it. The third ended up with a shoe in his face. A broken nose. Woops.  
"BACK DOWN!", the fourth shouted, pointing the rifle gun at me. He received a kick in the stomach (that must've hurt) and a punch in the face. It'd been two and a half years since my last uncontrolled fight, and I sure as hell was enjoying it. The kids from the karate-club had been way too predictable. Removing the handcuffs from my wrists took some precious time, but eventually the blood returned to my fingers as I cast the cuffs away.  
Now I had access to eight guns in total, but I decided I'd only take two handguns. _Now, how do I get out of here?_ I had a great disadvantage, since I knew near to nothing about the layout of this base, or whatever it was. _  
_Carefully yet quickly I headed down the corridor, which continued for a distance and ended in a fork. On good luck I took the left-hand one, which passed some storage rooms. _Left, left, right, left, right._ I'd remembered every turn I'd taken after I'd freed myself, but that didn't help much. More rooms and offices, the few people I came by eyed me with surprise. That was part of the questions that echoed through my mind. (a) Who were these guys, (b), where the heck am I and (c) how do I get out of here.  
The hall ended in a door, and I opened it on my guard. It gave entrance to a larger, abandoned storage room. With a window. Exactly the 4 square metres I needed. I sprinted the last few metres, feeling anticipation build inside me. At last I'd know more-  
I skidded to a halt in front of it. For a moment I no longer cared for anything but the view, and what I saw made my spirits drop a kilometre.  
Ocean.  
We were above a d*** ocean. We were in a plane above an ocean. For miles the deep blue water continued, no land in sight. It was a partially overcast day, clouds floated by at the same altitude as ours. The wind formed miniature waves down below, and the shadows of the clouds drove across the surface.  
"It's not exactly what you expected, is it?"  
From a door on the other side of the room a red-haired woman in a black suit appeared. There was a certain confidence in her steps, and she seemed unmoved by the whole situation. Observing, emotionless. Her green eyes rested on the horizon.  
"Natalia." To be honest the calmness in my voice surprised me, since I was experiencing extreme surprise and confusion.  
At hearing her name her eyes went to me. She stepped closer, but remained at a polite distance.  
"This all must be.. very confusing for you." On the outside she remained indifferent, but just underneath the surface impatience sounded through.  
"Where are we?"  
Her gaze turned back to the outside view. "We're somewhere above the Pacific. You're with S.H.I.E.L.D. now.", she calmly added.  
"And what does S.H.I.E.L.D. need from me?"  
"You would've found out if you hadn't knocked down the guards."  
I shrugged. What could I say? "They handcuffed me."  
"Well, if you don't want to end up in prison I wouldn't beat up the guards anymore; they tend to be a bit touchy about that."  
 _The Black Widow giving me advice?_ I didn't know what to think anymore, and just went with it. The handguns had meanwhile turned heavy in my hands.  
"Whatever you may think of me, I am not unreasonable. I just need to know which side I'm dealing with."  
"We're not unreasonable either, but you'd do good in settling down." With that I received a piercing glare, that said: 'don't even think about causing more trouble'.  
"Come.", she ordered, and just walked away in the same direction she'd come from. I didn't know who to trust, or what to do for that matter. I knew even less of what was awaiting me, but nevertheless I followed her. Somehow meeting my former archenemy had put me at ease. Another thing that's weird about me, I easier trust foe than friend. Still with a gun in either hand I sped after probably the most dangerous woman in the world.

 _Listening doesn't hurt._

* * *

"When I was informed they'd tracked down a HYDRA-agent, I didn't expect it to be you.", the man spoke up, casting me a calculating look. He was a black man with an eyepatch, wearing a dramatically long coat and similar-coloured clothes. As a response I raised an eyebrow, what on earth was I to say to that? Who was this guy even? Without averting his dark brown eye he casually slid something onto the table I was sitting at, next to the guns that I'd placed there earlier. Files. The top page contained a picture of me, the one I'd taken on the Nozomi Shinkansen, with a short list of characteristics. In bright red letters it read CLASSIFIED across. It might be useful to inform you that there were about 50 pages underneath.  
The room was different from any other room I'd seen here: 100% sure it was an interrogation room. One table, three chairs, glass walls (they really seemed to like those) and security cameras. Natalia, or Natasha Romanoff as she now went by, stood in the door opening, observing. Eyepatch also didn't like sitting down, apparently, as he kept pacing up and down the room.  
"Security level 3 assassin, estimated twenty-five deaths a year. No wonder the FBI is practically begging us to extradite you." His voice held an indifferent undertone, as if he was in situations like this regularly. Which I'm sure he was. _  
_"And who might 'us' be?" I spoke up while I crossed my arms. The try-to-give-off-a-cool-impression act wasn't something for me, I'd rather know the who (especially with weak points), where and why without all the drama, just to know where I stood. Eyepatch still showed no emotions other than slight annoyance.  
"I'm Director Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D., and we need information. You're the one who's going to provide us that."  
I remained silent for a moment. Sure enough, they wanted insider-information concerning HYDRA.  
"One problem: I no longer work with HYDRA."  
Now an actual look of surprise crossed eyepatches' – Fury's - face.  
"You're one of the most dangerous assassins of an evil organisation - and you're saying you simply _quit_?" he asked sceptically.  
I let out a small sigh and fought the urge to roll my eyes.  
"No – I'm saying _I_ no longer work with _them_. That doesn't mean any of this is _simple._ Now, name your demands."  
He didn't say anything for a while – either he was too much irked by my words or he was seriously considering them. At length he spoke up: "You'll be at our disposal any time, give us the information we need and help us bring down HYDRA."  
"In exchange neither me nor Ryuu will be held accountable for any of our crimes. You might even find him to serve a useful purpose."  
Eyepatch raised his eyebrow. "That computer guy? Why the heck would you worry about him?"  
I refused to answer that question and continued to stare at him. He responded my glare equally. He was not just a person, I saw it in his eye. Potentially dangerous? Certainly. At last he conceded more or less.  
"I'll keep it in mind," he stated. "But that pardon you'll have to earn. From now on you'll remain under constant supervision, and I don't want to hear you knocked down the guards another time, understood?"  
"Then I'd wish them not to handcuff me anymore," I replied stubbornly.  
He eyed me suspiciously. "In return I expect your full cooperation."  
"No need to convince me there – I'm just making sure this doesn't result in a one-way ticket into prison."  
"We've got a deal." He turned to leave.  
"Will I get my stuff back soon?" I called after him, knowing there wouldn't be a reply but it'd probably annoy him terribly, and that'd be worth it. He and his cape disappeared around the corner, but the woman hadn't moved. instead, she sent me a glare and spoke: "You're very lucky to be here. I'd keep that attitude in check if I were you." _That.. is going to be hard._  
"So, back to the cell room I guess?"  
She nodded curtly.  
 _Such cheerful company._


	4. Meet Mr I (aka the Interrogator)

**A/n: Hey guys, first I want to thank you all for your wonderful support and reviews! I'm really looking forward to introduce more of the Original characters, and of course to answer the main question: who is Ryuu? Just kidding ;) That'll have to wait for now, unfortunately. But we will meet Hugh (you'll see) and there'll be a short switch of p.o.v. Sorry for the late update, all of the sudden** ** _loads_** **of assignments were poured over us and everything has to be finished in one or two weeks *groans and rubs eyes*. I hope I got the HYDRA info bit right, I'm doing my best researching. This will be more or less a filler chapter, but we'll get to know our main character a bit better as she gets to know S.H.I.E.L.D. over time. Interesting stuff is coming up... If there's something unclear or if you have comments or anything, or if you're simply in an extremely social mood, feel free to review or PM! Again, thank you so much for everything, and hopefully till the next chapter!**

The next morning only two guards appeared at my door, this time they knew better than to handcuff me. I'd slept like a rock; the heavy sedative had made slow progress exiting my systems but now I was convinced I was clean.  
"Good morning, guys", I greeted them. They did not respond, attempting to give off a professional appearance – this only amused me more.  
We were taking a shorter route this time, through the halls and downstairs to a room somewhat similar to the one in which I got to know _Director_ Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. This one was a little more spacious and fancier, a touchscreen covered a part of the wall, the table was made of oaken instead of metal, and there was a small window for a change. There was no one inside yet, and the guards had found their spot on either side of the door ( _inside_ ), so I took the liberty to sit down on one of the two chairs and put my feet up on the table. From across the room the guards just looked at me disapprovingly. I stared back. That's the great thing about guards, they never say anything. They hardly ever do anything. It's just funny.  
I always seem the only one who tries to win a staring contest from two guards while in captivity. The man on the left quickly gave up, averting his gaze to the ground for a millisecond. _One down, one to go._ The second was more persistent, unwilling to break eye contact.  
Before we could make out a winner however a man entered, breaking our eye contact immediately. From the moment he came in I knew this'd be some interesting days. Not. He had short, black hair and hard lines around his grey eyes. In addition to that he gave off the impression he hated this almost as much as I did, probably even more. At a short signal of his, the guards exited the room to guard the other side of the door instead, leaving me with no staring contest-partner. Mister interrogator set down some files on the table, and his eyes darted to my trainers which were still there.  
"I'd prefer you'd show some manners when you're here." I merely raised an eyebrow.  
"Feet down.", he ordered, nearly glaring a hole in my feet. _Oh fiiine. These guys are really touchy about everything._  
"Thank you." He sat down in the opposite chair and took some papers out.  
"Have you read the files you were given through?" he inquired monotonously.  
"Yes."  
"And what is your impression?"  
I couldn't suppress a snort. "That your knowledge is completely outdated – it is pathetic, really."  
This was irking him horribly, but he was practiced in retaining a neutral face.  
"You said you no longer work for HYDRA," he went on. "Please clarify."  
I shrugged. "It's exactly what you say it is: I'm not a HYDRA-agent anymore."  
"And what precisely is your interpretation of that?"  
If looks could kill that estimation of 25 deaths a year would be far underrated.  
"Then let me rephrase that. My link with HYDRA has been severed. I don't obey them, in the last few years no people have been killed on my account. I. No. Longer. Commit. Assassinations."  
Unfortunately for him, he disagreed. "Here it clearly states that there are at least 7 victims reported to have found their end at your hands last month."  
My fist had clenched automatically, and only when I looked down at it my fingers were able to stretch and relax again. When I'd agreed to cooperate (to a certain extent at least) I hadn't considered they'd first hold me accountable for everything I'd done. _Just go with it._  
"Those deaths weren't of my doing. They were the unfortunate result of subdivisions unable to properly pursue, and they only died either because they happened to be in the crossfire or because in their reality failure is equal to a certain death."  
"Subdivisions?"  
I smirked. "My guess is that you guys really don't know much about the other side, do you?"  
Mister interrogator did not see the humour in it.  
"Subdivisions..." A deep sigh. "HYDRA is, of all criminal organisations, by far the most infamous. In the underworld even more than with you. Then there are hundreds of other, minor groups, of which some try to become favoured by HYDRA in order to share in both status and material supplies; they do this by doing favours. Psi, Chrono Assembly, Elemental Squad, Ten Rings - they've all passed the list once. In this case, the 'favour' is turning me in to them, preferably alive since that adds bonus points." The sarcasm was now dripping off of the words, combined with a deep feeling of disdain. Subdivisions have been a continuous pain in the ass, and nothing more than that. HYDRA would never regard them as equals, favour or no favour, and usually the subdivision would be terminated in no time if it persisted. Or they'd become cannon fodder. In the best case some would make it all the way up to PS (nope, not PA because they'd become a Personal Slave rather than Assistant). I'd known many a cocky man who'd turned into no more than a shadow within a week.  
"And why is that?", Mr Interrogator interrupted my train of thought carelessly.  
"Why is what?"  
"How does it benefit them when you remain alive?"  
My eyes wandered away from his steel grey ones to the touchscreen on the wall: the screensaver displayed a world map, the standard version with Europe in the centre. It seemed out of place, ordinary as it was. The sky-blue countries were separated from the dark oceans by white lines, resulting in giving it an overall simple appearance.  
"S.H.I.E.L.D. uses Clearance Levels ranging from 1 to 10, right? As a private you start at 1, and work your way up from there?" I got neither confirmation nor denial, so I continued: "Within HYDRA there exists a more or less comparable hierarchy, called Security Levels, only they range from one as the highest to ten as the lowest, and underneath that a variety of other entitlements. In my entire life I've only known twenty-three other people with the same Security Level as me, Level 3, of whom 14 were scientists. Of the others only four remain."  
Mr Interrogator kept staring at me, a habit that I found to become more annoying as the minutes passed. A part of me suddenly yearned to make his head make contact with the floor. He was armed, but it seemed easy enough to get the gun and Taser that were strapped to his belt, so easy even that my hands were almost getting restless. _Keep it together, you've finally earned some trust – (you call that trust?!) – well at least respect. You made a deal, for Ryuu's sake as well as your own, so settle down already._  
My 'dear friend' had meanwhile crossed his arms. "Names, please."  
I huffed, mentally taking deep breaths. "Not for your pleasure, no."  
"Oh, so you do still care about them, then?"  
My head whipped back up to him from the table. " _What_?"  
"You refuse to give names so that they can be tracked down. Usually that means you're still feeling a form of familiarity with them."  
 _Can I hit him now?_  
"So you expect a _prisoner_ to tell every little detail within a day with nothing but a promise to fall back on? Oh no dear, first you got to earn that trust, just as much as I have to earn a pardon." I cocked my head to the right, anything but interested in what he had to say to that. Truth to be told, I didn't care about his entire being.  
The case was, that I wasn't unwilling to share my knowledge. I was reasonable. Should it be demanded I'd even be willing to help them take down HYDRA (not that they'd ever let me). But not this way. It had to be made clear that I wasn't a disposable pawn, a tool that could be used whenever they felt like it. They wanted – and most likely expected – me to be an infinite source of insider-information concerning everything the law forbid, but I wasn't. True, I wanted this to be over asap, but that didn't make me eager to spill my guts just like that.  
"In that case, I'm done here."  
Mr Interrogator rose from his chair and straightened his uniform, looking down at me with the same bored expression as ever.  
"Oh, now already?", I asked with faux innocence.  
"Tomorrow we will repeat this session, and we'll be doing that for as long as you make it.", he stated in what I'm sure must've been a taunting or at least professional voice. Clearly, I didn't care.  
"I'm looking forward to it."

Unfortunately he did remain true to his word. The next day we both returned to that room, and the next, and the next. The more time passed, the less information I was willing to give them. This was starting to take on the form of a cross-examination instead of a deal. The mornings I spent being interrogated my Mr Whose name I Still Don't Know; then the whole of the afternoon, evening and night I'd be locked away in my room, with nothing to do than either to draw or write - at least they'd given me pen and paper - but even with those I began to feel restless. For three hours or so I'd practice basic fighting moves and stances, and every day two times they'd serve me a meal (I don't usually eat breakfast). The remainder of time I'd either sleep or walk in circles. The nights were possibly worse than the days. Ever since that drug had left my systems and without anything to distract or wear myself out the nightmares had returned. Usually my brain would have a handful in processing everything that had happened during the day, but now that I had hours and hours for doing that little job, my mind apparently thought it'd be fun to display horror movies overnight.  
No wonder I seized the opportunity that I was offered with both hands.

It was not until the fifth day that some change was brought, when case Ryuu came up. As to why I'd decided to trust him - more or less.  
"It is widely known that you were a solo player.", Mister added apathetically. Despite it being highly frustrating and overall annoying, I found myself looking forward to these interrogations. The black-haired man with his ever bored grey eyes was my only source of information; after that first day I'd seen no-one besides the guards and this Mister, and the occasional passer-by in the corridors. Other than that I was completely isolated from the world.  
"Still am. We merely traded. Everything's about offer and demand – he offered whatever documentary I needed, I gave him a social life. That's it." I'd noticed he had a long face, slightly oval. My guess was that he often frowned, because a permanent line was forming just above his eyes in the middle of his face. And whenever he got fed up with me, there would appear a thick vein at his temple.  
"What do you know about him? What's his real name?"  
I shrugged. "I wouldn't know. We've never met, and not communicated by other means than texts. As far as I'm concerned he might be a she."  
Nope, the steel grey eyes didn't believe me. On the other hand, he hardly ever did.

Furthermore, on the ninth day, a new daily activity was introduced. The guards again came to pick me up after the interrogator had left - honestly, I need to have a name. He looked somewhat like Bruce Willis but the eyes reminded me more of Hugh Laurie, so from now on I've decided he'll be named Hugh. Hugh the Interrogator. So, after Hugh had left, the guards came in and silently ordered me to stand up and go walk in between them. But instead of leading me back to the confinement room they took me elsewhere – secluded by a heavy door, it was a spacious room that we entered. It was this room that made me wonder if the government knew what she was spending taxes on. In front of me was a full-fledged mixed martial arts/ boxing room. Grey laminate flooring, black and grey walls, HV lamps, and in a corner, slightly above ground level, a boxing ring. The A/C took care of keeping the temperature just above 60 degrees F. Apart from the obvious, no prominent technology, nor any standing out cameras (they were there, only hidden). It almost felt.. normal. Was that even possible these days? _Apparently._ Even though it resembled the rest of this Helicarrier.  
"There are clothes in that room." One of the guards pointed towards a door on the left – it probably led to a changing room of some sort. "You've got one hour." That was all. They synchronically turned on their heels, and uber-obviously took position on the other side of the door as they always did. It was starting to become ridiculous, this repetitive act. Anyhow, I was there, alone, unsupervised if you counted the cameras out. A complete training room for myself. Or at least, I assumed that was the case. What in the world was the use of this? Had I suddenly become some sort of lab rat, an experiment, and now my movements in a new environment would be observed? The logic of this gesture was beyond me.

I made my way to the door on the left, inwardly squinting at the amount of sound my footsteps made. The flooring and covered walls however prevented excessive resonance, luckily. I opened the door; as expected, it was a small changing room, with – surprise, black and white tiles, small benches on one side and lockers on the other. Several lockers were actually locked, which raised the impression that this room was commonly used.  
What in the world… I had absolutely not a clue what they expected, did they do this to every enemy they encountered? Lock them away in a training facility? In no time I found myself wandering around the room, observing the equipment. The more time passed, the more I mused over this particular situation and the less it made sense.  
One would think that after all this time I couldn't care less about other people's opinions, let alone those of the enemy – and yet I was experiencing mixed feelings. Suspicion obviously.. and guilt. Why guilt though? _Perhaps because you're not used to kind gestures. Somehow, in some way, this is different than how you expected it to turn out. / Oh shut up you pathetic being. We don't have the luxury to be that naïve./_ The professional part of me hated to admit that the gut feelings had a point. Whenever there would be a person captured by HYDRA, they couldn't rely on anything – not even basic necessities such as nourishment, clothing… Instead of being interrogated, they would be deprived from the most basic, deep-rooted rights, humiliated, abused, tortured (the last two depending on which base they happened to be captured in). And they never made it out alive.  
S.H.I.E.L.D. was definitely more subtle, and in the end it might work better, but it would also take more time. It too meant that this gesture couldn't be trusted no matter how 'kind' it seemed. Logically, they only brought me here so that they could observe my skill degree, but even so they could've done that by asking questions, or simply waiting until I'd practise by myself in the confinement room (or break it apart, whatever would come to mind first). In my opinion they kind of overdid it. _Well whatever. If they want you to use it, then do so now you still can._ Were it indeed the case that my behaviour was being examined in order to establish a judgement about me in general, then it'd probably be positive if I'd cooperate only a little. The appeal certainly was increasing…  
Back in the small changing space I unfolded the bundle of clothes, which existed of a grey shirt and black sweatpants. Basic, but sufficient. I still had a hairband in one of my pockets that hadn't been removed, and now could be used to pull up my hair in a high ponytail. Shoulder-length hair was handy, but not during training. _Ok fine, but only this time._  
After having changed into the loose fitting clothes I re-entered the room barefoot. The floor was smooth, and warmer than expected. My plan: I was indeed going to make use of the opportunity to catch up with what used to be my daily training and to loosen up my muscles. But I wouldn't go full-steam and show off – more than the simple, wide-known moves I wouldn't give them, not until I'd get a better insight on their motives. My eyes caught sight of some punching bags in a corner, perhaps I could take on boxing again… _No, don't plan further than today. You might not be allowed to come back here every day, it's maybe a once-a-week event, or even one-time._  
There were only 45 minutes left, and I figured I'd better start doing something.


	5. To war (but not me, I'm grounded)

**A/n: Heyy everyone! I'm so, so sorry that took so long! I tried to publish a new chapter before Christmas, but then Christmas turned into New Years Eve, and so on... Even though it's the 5th already, I still wish all of you a happy 2017! One f my resolutions is to update more often, and I promise I'll try. To my faithful followers** Phoenix921996 **and** PondLake **, thank you for your reviews, they really get me going and make me feel this story is actually interesting. I hope that I'll meet your expectations.  
I hope that through this chapter y'all will be less confused about the constant time lapses. I really want to move on, but alas, that isn't possible without a few chapters like these.  
As always, constructive criticism as well as any type of review is more than welcome! Enjoy!**

From the other side of the platform a woman glanced up at Director Nick fury as he entered the bridge. The emerald eyes held an observing look, as usual devoid of any emotion other than a mild curiosity. Bright red hair flowed down in loose waves to a point just above the tips of her shoulder blades, and it contrasted with the black S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. Her fingers hovered over the screen she was standing in front of; it displayed the training facility from four different angles. Currently it was occupied by the once in a fortnight-visitor.  
"Tell me again, why did we allow her in there in the first place?", Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow, asked, returning her gaze to the screen. The (as far as they were told) ex-assassin was performing simple gymnastics next to her repetitive daily workout – the same as she had done the three times she'd been allowed access before to the training facility.  
Fury strode across the platform to analyse the screen like Romanoff did.  
"So far we haven't found evidence that she might not be telling the truth, and with Dr. Selvig working on project PEGASUS we have to set our priorities straight." He turned around and walked towards the main post. "Until we've got the facts, I'd prefer she has something to blow off steam. The last thing we need on board is a ticking time bomb." A frown appeared on his face as he spoke these words, but he didn't go into it.  
"So it's been decided she will remain here after touchdown?", she asked matter-of-factually, not too pleased with the prospect. The woman had been here for a mere 15 days, and they hadn't found out anything about her motives nor classified HYDRA information, which she found to be slightly frustrating.  
"She will remain under constant supervision, just as she has been. If anything happens we'll be right on it." A short silence. "Coulson suggests we move on to the next stage."  
Romanoff felt mildly reluctant upon hearing this. "And that implies?"  
"That implies that we're going to test her reliability by making small move against HYDRA."  
"No, it means that we'll be relying on her."  
"We cannot keep her in confinement without exploiting the possibilities."  
The bridge was relatively empty; apart from a trio of workers that were at their posts, it was furthermore deserted. Opposite of the platform the cloudy sky was visible through the panorama windows on the front, and it covered the bridge in a dim grey light.  
Romanoff pursed her lips, but left the matter for what it was. "I see." Averting her green eyes from the screen she picked up a file from the top of one of the desks.  
"In any case, I won't be here to keep an eye on things – I have business of my own that needs to be taken care of." She briefly showed the first page of the file, with on it a short description list and a picture of a balding man, around his late 30s, with all properties of that age – black hair on the sides of his head, an oval-shaped face, and harsh lines around the corners of his nose, mouth and eyes. The latter were such a dark shade of blue that they were nearly black, and he glared at the camera with a deep frown that was etched in his face.  
"Mikhail Fjodorov. He is known to illegally sell any weapon to the highest bidder – I'll be going to Moscow to investigate."  
Fury nodded in agreement. "We'll contact you if there's a change of plans, so try to keep an eye on your phone."  
Romanoff nodded in response. "Yes sir."

* * *

Sound filled the normally quiet room temporarily as I furiously scratched, turning what had been a partially finished draft in a chaos of blue lines. _What is the freaking use of this?! I've drawn that corridor a billion times already and it won't get me anywhere._ The remains were being crumpled and aimed at one of the security cameras. It hit, and fell to the floor to join its predecessors, having done zero damage like them – that only added to the frustration that had been building inside me for days. For three whole weeks I'd been able to keep up an indifferent attitude, but slowly I was starting to lose my cool. On the inside, mind you, though the idea of unleashing my anger upon the guards was rather appealing. But so was escaping this place. Overnight, whenever I wasn't plagued by nightmares my mind held itself busy with making both rational and irrational escape plans.  
The trouble was, and I began to see that now, that if I wanted to remain on reasonable terms with S.H.I.E.L.D., I didn't have as much of a choice I thought I did. Smartass I was with that deal of mine, I was a prisoner and nothing could deny that. Deal or no deal, it was me who was in the disadvantage here. With a deep sigh I took out another paper, and plotted the first few lines in the left bottom. This was what the days were filled with now: sketching, training, being interrogated, sleeping.  
What a life.  
That was sarcasm, for those who haven't noticed.  
The interrogations were also the joy of my life; Hugh attempted to elicit HYDRA's top secrets from me, but I gave him a good run for his money in return. The main problem was that they didn't trust me enough to inform me where they wanted information about. So how on earth was I supposed to cooperate?  
From bottom left to right the paper was being filled with blue lines, shaping the beginnings of a wooden floor. That room I remembered as well as my own pocket. It was one of the very few places that had good memories attached to them.  
It was rather small and rectangular, hence it easily fit on paper. The wooden floor, probably oak or something, created a warm atmosphere, and the white plastered walls and ceiling kept it light. There was no window of some sort present, yet the furniture made up for it and the lamps enlightened everything. Opposite of the entrance door (it was connected to a long corridor) was the kitchen, no need to describe that as it was just an average kitchen, if you insert 'small kitchen' in Google you'll find plenty examples.  
Against the left wall a small wardrobe and a single sofa bed, with black ruffled blankets and two matching pillows resided, where I had the majority of free time in my childhood. Black didn't really fit in the room as it was, but this way I needn't worry about dirty blankets – more than often I'd been too tired to care about changing. As long as it wasn't visible, making up the bed wasn't necessary.  
In front of it a low table made of the same sort of wood as the flooring. On it were three white candles that had been there since the beginning of time, and anything that I was too lazy to put back where it belonged (which was a lot). Furthermore there was another door on the right that lead to the shared bathroom, and one black fauteuil that opposed the sofa bed.  
That chair (sorry, fauteuil is just too posh) was the one Ethan would usually sit in whenever we were off-duty. He'd cook for the both of us (it is not exactly as if McDonald's was a valid option, and my cooking skills were nearly equal to zero), and afterwards we'd either chat or duel in the training room until one surrendered, which varied every time - but only after several hours when exhaustion would begin to take over. Neither ever ended up with more than a couple of bruises and sore limbs however, as we never sought to actually harm the other.  
Ethan...  
The pen lingered over what was supposed to become a tall plant in the corner of the room that I always forgot to water, needless to say that the result had become noticeable after some years.  
Ethan.  
I hadn't thought of him for weeks, considering all that was going on. The idea that he had slipped my mind so easily was a rather depressing thought. How could I ever forget him? He had been the one thing that had made my years at the Base worthwhile, for, as he put it, 'even a most skilled spy can use a break at times'. Because of him I'd started calling that place 'home'.  
In my life I've read maybe a couple of dozen books, mainly informative ones, but I knew enough about the fangirl world to have knowledge of the phenomenon called Mary Sues and Gary Stus, and 'self-insertion'. These seemingly perfect OC's, Original Characters, occurred mainly in fanfiction, the fangirls' and (if they're lucky) fanboys' realm. One of the main characteristics of such a character was 9 out of 10 times an angst-filled past, in which they never fit in and had been bullied, abused, tortured or whatnot, solely because they were themselves.  
To make a long story short, I wasn't one of them.  
Before the Great Escape I'd had a relatively good life, with friends, hobbies, a future. There were times when I mentally still referred to the HYDRA Headquarters as home, though that happened less and less frequently nowadays.

The sound of a door sliding open pulled me from my current train of thought, and a tad startled I looked up. The visitor was just the usual guard (they'd narrowed down to one after several days) – but arriving at an illogical time. It was late in the afternoon, and per usual I'd already visited Hugh this morning and the training facility yesterday, hence there was no reason for him to be here. Except if he'd taken pity on me and wanted to keep me company, which was doubtful.  
An awkward silence hung in the air between us.  
"Is something amiss?", I eventually enquired, rising from the chair. He cast a confused glance at the heap of paper next to the door, before shaking his head.  
"Director Fury demands your presence in the conference room." I raised an eyebrow as I sent him a questioning look. He returned the favour, so neither of us got any further. He held up his hands in defence. "I know nothing more than this, so glaring doesn't work."  
 _Glaring?_ As far as I knew I hadn't been glaring, but then again, people said that more often about me. I pushed those irrelevant thoughts back to a far corner of my mind, and crossed the room brushing past him.  
"Well then, we don't want to keep him waiting, do we?"

We were walking down the corridor, the guard slightly in front of me seeing I didn't know which way to go. Over time he had started to be more relaxed around me – apparently he was finally convinced that I wouldn't pull off another trick as on my first day here. The silence was comfortable, yet I felt somewhat inclined to start a conversation anyway.  
"So, the conference room, huh? What did I do to deserve that honour?"  
The brunet shrugged. "I already told you, I don't know more than you do." He glanced around a little uncomfortable, inadvertently fidgeting with the hem of his uniform. "I shouldn't even be talking to you. It's against orders."  
We rounded another corner, and a smile tugged on the corners of my lips. "But as I recall you've been speaking to me nearly every day. Haven't you therefore already disobeyed those orders?" He did not reply.

Soon we found ourselves nearing two glass doors, and with a nod the guard turned on his heels, leaving me on my own. No 'see you later', no 'good luck', no nothing. Great friend. Still the same professionality and distrust.  
I turned back to the doors. Despite what I had tried to make myself believe, curiosity had taken the better of me the moment the guard had entered my room earlier. They needed me to be here. Why though? Had something happened? Had HYDRA tracked me down? Nope, the latter wasn't logical. _But staying here definitely won't answer those questions,_ I realised, and straightened the grey shirt I was wearing over black pants and almost knee-high boots.  
 _We better get going. The sooner this is over, the better._

The double glass doors opened automatically when I approached them, revealing what I assumed was the bridge of the Helicarrier.  
It was larger than I had expected. The front was completely made of glass, and provided a view on the clear blue sky outside.  
Currently I was standing on a higher platform in the back, with supposedly the 'helm' in front of the platform, two stairs higher than a central corridor that descended as it neared the front. In the two lower parts on either side were multiple rows of desks with computer screens, but at the moment all the stations were deserted.  
In the back - right in front of me, seeing the glass wall was on my right and the double doors behind me – was a black, triangular conference table with six chairs around it; three on either side (the entire bridge was symmetrical). On the table as well as on the wall behind it stood the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem, a black eagle on a grey background. Rather simplistic, in my opinion, and somewhat resembled the American 'E Pluribus Unum' eagle, but that was also its strength.  
That long I didn't have to admire the view, for as expected I did not find myself to be alone.  
In total there were four people, three men and one woman. I recognised Director Fury standing near the helm, next to the woman. She had a square-ish face, a straight nose and serious steel grey eyes. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a neat bun, her bangs had been pulled to one side. She was wearing a dark blue uniform, a holster with a handgun tied to the belt. And it was beyond doubt that she'd use it if necessary.  
The remaining two men were sitting at the conference table. The one on the right was slightly balding on his forehead, had brown hair and blue eyes. With the black suit he was wearing he looked like the average office worker, but there was something about him that told me he shouldn't be underestimated. Normally one of the adjectives that would be used to describe his face was 'kind', but somehow that just didn't fit. Not now, at least. It wouldn't surprise me if he too carried a weapon.  
On the right, leaning back in his chair, was someone whom I'd seen passing once or twice during my stay here. Light brown hair (today brown's really in) and observing blue eyes (again, no colour variation or whatsoever). He was wearing a sleeveless shirt with a small collar, more like uniform, and were those bracers? Unless he was wearing them as accessories, which I highly doubted, that indicated he was an archer. With a terribly good aim.

Contrary to.. well, _everyone_ I'd met so far on this Helicarrier, they did not seem to deem me a threat. About the woman I wasn't that sure though, she was doing a good job keeping an eye on me. _And I've only just arrived!_ After this fleeting examination I returned my focus to Fury.  
"I believe you _demanded_ my presence?" In addition to the question I crossed my arms.  
"Indeed I did," he replied, ignoring the tone my voice held. "Take a seat." He casually gestured at the chairs on the other side of the table before wandering off in roughly the same direction, as if I were one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents instead of their target. Not that I minded though, quite the opposite. It was just odd.  
I did as requested, or actually _demanded_ , but who was I to decline? And the black leather chairs did look rather comfortable. The other attendees eyed me warily as I sat down, which in return made me raise an eyebrow. The woman joined the three of us at the table, whereas Fury went to stand at the head of it.  
I half expected him to say 'I suppose you're all wondering why I gathered you here'. But _they_ most likely already knew, leaving only me in the dark. And even I could see where this was going.  
"For weeks this atmosphere of mistrust has been going on, and it's about time we did something about it."  
He nodded at the not-so-friendly-looking office worker, who then clasped his hands which were on the table, and spoke up.  
"The idea is that we send a team to infiltrate one of HYDRA's military outposts."  
 _Oh. Apparently my gut feeling is less accurate than I thought.  
_ "This way both parties will be forced upon trust, or either will have to deal with the consequences."  
Four pairs of eyes briefly turned to me. _Great, we're parties now. Go Party Me._  
"We know," he continued, "that in the United States there are at least five minor bases, one of which is situated near the Pacific." The conference table suddenly lighted up in the shape of North-America, with blue outlines. _Surprise! The table is a touch screen._ And indeed, on the American-Mexican border, near the Pacific, there was a small red dot.  
"We have to cut off communication first," the archer chimed in. "and the security camera system."  
"Or rather the person behind it. From there you can work your way in, considering main control is near to the southern fence," I piped up, ignoring the stares that followed.  
"You've been there before?" the archer asked, sounding not entirely surprised, yet interested to some degree. I nodded and meanwhile crossed my legs.  
"A few times. I believe this one's called Tsunami. There are multiple experimental weapons stored there – with the right timing it shouldn't be too hard to clear the place and make it look like an accident."  
"What kind of weapons?" the woman on my right asked, and I shrugged, hoping this wouldn't result in just another cross hearing.  
"Mainly firearms and aircraft guns, though they also used to explore the possibilities of conventional guided missiles."  
The woman nodded, and the archer slightly turned to face Fury and the office worker.  
"I can lead a team there.."  
They continued discussing strategies, asking me a few questions, but otherwise I did not take part in the conversation, which in the end did not last longer than 10, 15 minutes, 20 at most. It was decided that the team would leave in half a week, and I held my fingers crossed that the base hadn't changed much in the last four years.

When Fury dismissed us I, too, rose to leave. However, before I reached the double glass doors someone stopped me.  
"You're coming with me," the archer ordered, motioning to the pair of doors on the other side of the platform. I merely raised an eyebrow, which I seemed to be doing a lot lately, and studied him out of habit. Now he was standing I could see he was wearing a different type of uniform, one I hadn't seen around here before. The main colours were black ( _as literally everything around here!_ ) and a purple-ish, more like an eggplant colour. He was also taller than me, but again, with the 5'5" I stood at everyone was.  
S.H.I.E.L.D., archery, special uniform, I knew there was a connection between them, but at the moment I couldn't see the relationship. I was convinced there was one, and I would find it out.  
But back to the moment, I decided it'd be best if I just followed him.  
Once we'd exited the bridge he came to walk next to me, since even after all this time I still had little knowledge about the lay-out of this flying ship. This I found to be the perfect time to inform about where we were going.  
"So what's all of this about?"  
He briefly looked down at me before gazing back ahead.  
"You're temporarily being placed in a different room. It's just a precaution."  
 _And so far for confidence.  
_ I huffed, feeling slightly offended. "Just in case I might contact HYDRA and prepare them for the invasion?"  
I'd helped them as good as I could, offered tactical information, and this is the result?! _For one week,_ I promised myself, _It's just for one week. When all goes well, I have the d*** right to say I told them so.  
_ He shrugged as a response. "Not necessarily. You could persuade or threaten someone into doing it." By the sound of his voice I could tell he wasn't being completely serious.  
"You don't think I've been lying all along? That's a huge leap of faith."  
"I've studied your work. _Vixen_ wouldn't have the patience for espionage."  
Walking suddenly seemed to be harder than normally. He had said _Vixen._ I hadn't heard my former code name for a long time. Hugh had named me 'HYDRA agent', and the others hadn't called me anything at all.  
It took me a moment to gather my wits and come up with a response.  
"Yeah well, unfortunately I'm not as _charismatic_ as Romanoff - I tend to be a little more straightforward."  
A short silence followed.  
"Now you know my name, it's only fair that you tell me yours."  
He looked slightly surprised, if not taken aback by this.  
"I'm sure that once I've heard it I'll regret asking in the first place," I continued, feeling increasingly awkward. Another short silence followed, and I must have imagined it, but I thought a ghost of a smile flitted across his indifferent features.  
"Most know me by the name of Hawkeye," he responded. In return I smiled sheepishly. Of course, hence the archery. Special agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.  
"I told you I'd regret it," I muttered under my breath, but apparently loud enough for him to hear it because now there was no mistake possible that he was actually smiling.

 _Maybe HYDRA was wrong about_ _S.H.I.E.L.D. after all._


	6. Flashback - And Black Everywhere

**A/n: Hey everyone - first I want to say, I deeply apologise for not having published** **anything in about 5 months... There was just one particular part that I couldn't find the right solution for, but now I hope I've found a good one.** **Phoenix921996, it took little longer than I wanted, but at last here it is! Part 2 is up soon, so don't worry - that one will be longer as well. For now** **, enjoy, and comment what you think of it!**

 _A shadow moved in the dark, not making any noise. The only sound that could be heard was the slow rhythmic breathing of the occupant of a small bunk bed in the corner of the room.  
The intruder manoeuvred past a low coffee table, in their hand holding a light weight object. The room was illuminated by the light that shone through the slightly ajar door, the corridor outside partially visible.  
The nearer they came to the bed, the better they could see the sleeping human, or rather the messy black hair that sprouted from the bundle wrapped in a dark shade blanket._

 _Carefully not to wake the light sleeper, the infiltrator slowly lifted the pillow the victim's head rested on, just enough to slide a small object underneath. For a split second a small timer was visible.  
Green numbers counted down.  
With only seconds left, the person fled the room, the victim yet unaware of what fate was awaiting them.  
00:07  
00:06  
The assailant hid in the corridor, peeking through a crack in the door.  
00:05  
00:04  
00:03  
The victim was still breathing rhythmically.  
00:02  
00:01_

 _00:00_

 _Just as the timer hit 00:00, a loud, shouting voice erupted from the device. "YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE, MY ONLY SUNSHINE.."  
Needless to say that the occupant of the bed was awake in no-time. They found themselves hitting the cold floor, partially covered by the blankets. The voice was still blaring loudly.  
The being that had caused the chaos was yet hidden from sight, but they wouldn't go unnoticed for much longer. Upon hearing muttered curses from inside, they couldn't contain their laughter._

 _The once cursing was vehemently trying to untangle themselves from the heavy blankets. The LED-lamps from the corridor casted their light at his square face, sharp jawline and straight nose. His lips were pursed in a tired and annoyed line, and his grey eyes darted across the room in the direction of the hallway, or more importantly, the shadow of the person just around the corner._

 _Once detangled from the grey mass he slowly rose, wearing only a shirt and boxers. They revealed an athletic body, with more muscles visible than you might expect from an 21-year-old boy._

 _And he was not amused._

 _First he made a search for the source of the blaring voice. By now it had begun the second couplet, but he turned it off immediately once he found it on top of his bed. The pillow it had been underneath had come down with him.  
Now the laughter became clearly audible. Its source had realised that too, and now the sound had ceased they were left with only one choice, regarding the other's mood: run for their dear life.  
The other however was faster than they had predicted – before they could move an inch, a strong hand closed around their upper arm._

How long ago had it been? 15, 16 years? A long time ago, that was certain… He ran a thumb across the cool, black metal of a handgun. Dust had gathered in the corners, indicating that it hadn't been used for a while. He had kept it without obvious reasons – sentimental value, some would say. Not him. Perhaps he had nurtured a silent hope that she would return soon. His frown deepened. He didn't _hope_ , he _knew_ she would come back. Some day she would see her mistake, and get rid of that sympathy, or a subdivision would kill her in the process of returning her. One corner of his mouth raised a little. The thought of her dying such an unhonourable death was ridiculous, to put it mildly. No, she would come home by herself, that he was certain of. And he would be waiting for her.

 _"_ _What the hell, Vix."_

 _The boy looked wearily at his prey. The cerulean eyes that could make the average parent swoon and were known for causing a cuteness overload in said category, now looked up at him with a glimpse of mischief, revealing their true nature. Her wavy blonde hair with blood red highlights touched her waist, and the white shirt size xxl made her look the adorable little rebel._

 _She smiled up at him innocently. "It's five in the morning already," she sang, "and you promised to help me with my techniques before lessons start."  
Reluctantly he let go of her arm and ran through his unruly hair with the same hand, groaning. "Ugh. You could've woken me the way you normally do," he pointed out to her.  
"But the last time I did that, you tried to floor me," she pouted, and he sighed. It was too early for this.  
"Look, it was an accident alright. The_ _re's no need to bring it up again._ _"  
Her face returned to its former state of smiling, only wider and with a trace of smugness. "I know. And now you owe me for that."_

 _He sent her a dark look that would make even his superiors feel uncomfortable. Back at the base even the real tough guys knew and respected him – something very few could claim. A promising future he had for sure. At this outpost there was no doubt he was the highest in rank, meaning he could effortlessly seize command if he wanted to. Luckily for those who ran the place he had zero intentions to do so. That was the whole f*** reason why he had come here several months ago. Them at base constantly put an enormous amount of pressure on him, especially because of his age – performance and results.  
It had surprised him that his request to train young cadets at a facility in southern Alaska had been granted. The fact that that one-armed frozen soldier had just returned from an away mission might've been one of the causes._

 _But here and now, right in front of him, this 11-year-old trainee of his stared him dead in the eye, not seeming the slightest bit intimidated. She had been one of a kind from the start, he'd seen that immediately. This was her third year in training, but she hadn't yet obtained the drone-like attitude most children took on after a year or two. Something told him she never would.  
Had he been a normal instructor he would've become infuriated, and punished her in the best case for invading his privacy and ignoring his rank – but he wasn't a normal instructor. _

_"_ _Whatever. Get changed, report at the martial room in five minutes," he ordered.  
She took on a military stance, the way the children were taught, and saluted (that part wasn't). "Yes sir!" The blonde then ran off to her own room, the third year girl's dorm a few blocks away, with a broad smile on her small face. _

_He sighed again, and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. 'This girl's demeanour is running out of hand – however, she does have potential,' he told himself.  
'You better keep an eye on that one, Ethan.'_

* * *

Someone was knocking on the door. This small action of courtesy surprised me in the middle of a yoga stance, which was a handstand with both lower arms flat on the ground. After a while it gives you a headache and burning arm muscles, but hey, there was nothing else to do. Boredom is horrible.  
A second later the door slid open, and – surprise! – my favourite guard walked in. Since a while rifleless.  
"They wish to see you on deck," he said, with a small smile. I pushed myself back onto my feet, and studied his face.  
"What are you smiling for?"  
His face quickly returned to its original state of indifference, with a hint of disappointment. "Nothing. Now if you will?"  
He gestured to the door, and we headed to a part of the carrier I'd not seen before – the reason why he'd come to get me, I presumed. The guard was feeling rather awkward, and slightly hurt. I wasn't here to chitchat with guards and make friends though, I was their d*** prisoner and that was that. If only they hadn't meddled with my life we wouldn't have been in this annoying situation in which no-one trusted one another. It took a deep, very deep breath to calm down a bit. Morning mood? Nah.

First I'd hear them out as to why they'd summoned me after these five days of ignorance. And then… well, let's just say that if they had invalid arguments, we'd be heading towards a catastrophe.

* * *

The first thought that entered my mind upon looking at the deck of this Helicarrier thing was something along the lines of: _Wow sh**, this place is big._ Everything was made of black metals, but it looked like and was an aircraft carrier. Which left me wondering where they got the money from… The electrical engineering/robotics and whichever study I had begun but never finished was immediately interested. The deck encompassed little more than the entire length and width of the ship, which was _a lot_. There were also several aircrafts, but from where I stood it was hard to see which types. Oh wait, where _we_ stood, the guard was still there. There were five aircrafts within visible range, and they were fitting the scenery perfectly. The place was as good as deserted, maybe ten, twenty people at most. The sky was overcast, making everything in sight either grey or black, including the sea. Or yellow, the stripes were yellow. Wait a minute, when had we landed?

Oh, and did I mention Party Not-Me standing there in its full glory? No wait, scratch that. Eyepatch was missing, as well as the office worker and Hawkeye. Too bad for them. At any rate, it seemed like I'd dropped in in the middle of an argument between the woman in suit (Hill I believe) and some other person. He was a bald man with caramel skin and glasses, wearing a suit as well. (told ya Men in Suits is a thing here). He had a disadvantage here, bad luck man.

"I must agree that I don't see the logic in that either, but there must be another solution to-"  
"We already discussed this. The situation is already unstable, and this won't improve unless we undertake some action."

The heavy doors made quite some sound whenever they opened, so our entrance wasn't all that quiet – why was it then that it took so long for them to notice my presence? The wind was down… No idea what the argument was about anyway. But now all eyes were turned to me, one cautious, one suspicious. I crossed my arms and remained at a certain distance. Which was easy in a place as big as this.

"So, I assume this means the mission went well?" I broke the short silence, unimpressed. The two shared a look before Hill responded.

"It indeed did – better than we had anticipated. This has raised some suspicion," At that she fleetingly sent the other man a stern look, "but there's been decided that you, in fact, have spoken the truth."

 _Wow, surprise. And they only find that out now?_  
"Um, okay. And why exactly have I been summoned here..?"

The man did not like that observation – he narrowed his eyes at me, then cast a look at Hill that said: please don't begin about it. Whatever 'it' was, I did not know, but something told me I would find out soon enough. Hill's next words surprised nonetheless.

"Do you know what happened on March 4th 1945?"

"The day Captain America plunged the Valkyrie bomber in the Atlantic and the infamous tesseract went lost," I replied quizzically. Why was this of importance?

"How much did they tell you about the tesseract?"

"It powers the majority of HYDRA's weapons," I automatically replied, "don't tell me you've found it?" That'd be quite a happening. Of course I'd heard of the Tesseract – who of my HYDRA-level hadn't? Until now neither me nor Ethan had paid much attention to historical/mathematical/physical facts like these, as they had never applied to our work. It might've been smart if I'd looked more into it.

"That was some seventy years ago. Right now Dr. Selvig is working on it so as to reignite it. You said you've studied electrical engineering and robotics?"

"Not to you, but yes, I have."

It was mildly surprising that she wasn't yet fed up with me. Instead she ignored the jibe and continued: "You will be assisting Dr. Selvig – under surveillance of course. For a yet undetermined period of time, you will be observing, but under no circumstance intervene without permission," she added. _Oh, this should be fun._

"And what exactly justifies this 180° turn-around in attitude towards me?" I voiced my scepticism.

"Let's just say we've found some new information. And there's enough trouble going on currently, so this is a temporary solution."

I would've expected a longer explanation, but this was enough information for me – I was currently maintaining the wait-and-see method. So far it had worked, why not now?

I nodded curtly, to which she motioned towards a helicopter a little further away. A light type, and _guess the colour._ It was a bright magenta. Just kidding – another plain black.

"Oh, and do note," Hill declared when I had made only a few steps in that direction, "that disrespect and insubordination won't make this any easier. You've shown plenty of disdain towards everyone – it will be only a matter of time before they grow tired of putting up with you."

 _Fine, have it your way,_ I mentally scoffed, but I continued my way to the heli without giving her as much as a glance. I hopped inside (on the back seat next to a suit) seeing that they were waiting for me (oh the luxury) and as soon as I'd buckled up and put the headphones on it took off, straight up towards the grey sky. Hill and the other man grew smaller as we separated ourselves further from them, as well as the Helicarrier at sea.  
A feeling of freedom settled in me, which I hadn't experienced for a long time. How long had I been kept there – nearly a month? No, it must've been longer. It felt like it anyway. Man, much had changed in that time. Initially S.H.I.E.L.D. had posed as much a threat as HYDRA, and now I was more or less siding with them. No, that wasn't true. I only provided them with information, I was a neutral character in this game. But still, the training room, and now this… It didn't fit the picture I had of the current situation. The few arguments I'd made up were invalid or highly unlikely, leaving me in the dark about their motives. It was almost like _Pandora hearts_ , a manga series: you had to just go with it, all the while not understanding what's going on, and only in the very end the puzzle pieces came together. Perhaps I'd too see what was going on, someday.

* * *

It was near the end of the day when the heli began its descend, somewhere above the deserts of south California. At first sight there was nothing but a few roads and some buildings. As the heli got closer however a more lively place appeared: dozens of satellite dishes on the north side of a collection of buildings – it could easily have been a university campus. Even closer, and now the SUVs and army trucks as well as more people than I'd expected here became visible. Andandand, guess what? _THERE WERE SUITS THAT WEREN'T BLACK!_ They were grey, white or dark green, and there weren't many, but whatever, it was some freaking variation.  
The sporadic radio calls that had come in during the flight now grew into an incessant stream of voices. _R44hf cleared to land._ That was us, apparently, as we immediately were headed for an empty spot on campus, in between the larger buildings.


	7. What on earth is PEGASUS

A/N: Heey *hides in a deep, dark hole* I'm so terribly sorry guys. School's been taking up all of my energy, all I do in my free time is homework and sleeping, literally. It took me a horribly long time to finish this, but I just wanted you to know that I haven't given up on this fic yet, and I really hope that after the exams in May my writing will speed up. I've got a plan (sorta), I just've got to write it down. Suggestions, comments, anything is welcome, and I hope that the next time I'll be able to make up for these shorter, rather boring chapters.

Clothing and hair got disarranged at our arrival, and here and there a hat was blown off by the helicopter blades as the vehicle attached to them touched the ground. Instead of turning of the engine the pilot gave an 'all clear' sign to the guard next to me.

The entire flight she had ignored me, to which I, in return, had ignored her. Her long, blonde hair was tied together in a neat ponytail, and on her face she wore sunglasses. Her fingernails had been painted a deep shade of red, and she held her hands loosely on top of one another. For the rest she was dressed like all the other mysterious-security-guard-or-agent-people, in a black suit. The aura around her was less intimidating than professional. In other words, not a fighter, but with knowledge of how to handle a weapon and no hesitation to use it.

She took off the headset and motioned for me to do the same. Then we got out of the heli, just before it took off again to who knows where.

"That's where we have to be," she shouted to make herself heard above the din, and pointed at one of the buildings. I followed her to the main entrance, past a stone plate. Next to the symbols of both S.H.I.E.L.D. and NASA, it read:

 _JOINT DARK ENERGY MISSION  
Western Division  
Project Pegasus  
NASA Space Radiation Facility  
S.H.I.E.L.D. Accelerator Test_

So NASA was in this too, eh? I wondered how much they knew about this project, about the tremendous power inside it. But out of all Earth's agencies NASA would most definitely be the first to know such a thing, except for the FBI or KGB of course. Those guys were everywhere, like ants in summer: you think the kitchen is 100% ant-free, you move a chair and _surprise_ , there is a whole colony.

The name, Project Pegasus, was a strange choice in my opinion, but hey, I hadn't studied Greek mythology. There was probably some connection between them, or maybe it was some sort of acronym. Protection Energy Something Alteration Space United States? Well whatever.

But Space Radiation Facility and Accelerator Test didn't match in my head (I understood the normal physics part, but not what it had to do with the Tesseract). Was everything explosive? Did space radiation come from the accelerator test? And OK, space radiation could be matched with the Tesseract, or at least from what I knew of it, but Accelerator Test? What part of it did they want to accelerate?

I was confused.  
I generally care too much about trivial details.

Double glass doors gave entrance to a broad hallway with a dark blue stone flooring and light grey walls. There was a reception desk opposite of the doors, but we continued our way to the right, past the desk, past the few people in the corridor. The woman in suit continued to march in front of me with a steady pace, and nodded to a duo of lab coats in a fashion of greeting. I quickly caught up with her, with a mixture of annoyance and quizzicality.

"If you're gonna show me around we ought to be on a second name basis, right?"

Her nose crumpled upon hearing me speak, but her pace didn't falter. "Officer Taylor," she spoke monotonously. _Officer_ Taylor. Neat. "Over here."

We turned left and stepped into a lift which _miraculously_ had been waiting for us instead of vice versa. It was the grey steel kind, with no mirrors or elevator music or whatsoever. There were no buttons to be pressed: it immediately went down the moment the doors had closed shut. And down we went, and down, and down… It must've been several hundreds of feet beneath the surface that the lift finally halted. The space we next entered differed from the building above like night and day: stone flooring, rack systems covering the walls, gray painted beams and all kinds of equipment neatly stored.

Taylor had continued her way, seemingly regardless of me following or not, but there was a fat chance that the moment I turned my back on her she'd have at least a dozen agents on me before I'd even make it back up. We descended several small stairs, then through a space with thick metal pillars, and down a long, white staircase that led down in a wide circular motion. Lab coats and agents alike walked off and on, minding their own business.

The final place we entered was more a hangar or a bunker, really. Heavily enforced concrete covered the walls, the ceiling was high up above and a dome where we came in, at the end of the rectangular.. hall. Various desks were spread across a certain section, with a handful of scientists working on building small structures, calculating values behind screens or attempting to prove their theories. There was a handful of security guards present, chatting, observing or reporting through an earpiece. Right before us, not entirely underneath the dome anymore, was an eye-catching structure of metal and wire that resembled a shooting range but not quite.

What really drew my attention though was what was encased at the end the furthest away from us, the 'shooting object' so as to say. I'd only hear of it so far, and seen the occasional drawings. The embodiment of the fourth dimension, a 4-polytope, also known as a tesseract. The blue, light emitting cube still held an eternal inferno of ever-lasting energy.

This was a very dangerous weapon. It wasn't _natural_ , every living being would feel the danger radiating off. This object didn't belong on earth, and in the wrong hands… _But what are 'the wrong hands' at this moment?_ And yet, something about it was attractive, enchanting about it. Obsessing, even. The enthralling movements of the flames in an endless space…

"Dr. Selvig?"

Taylor's voice shook me from my thoughts, and I turned to see her several feet ahead. The man she addressed was bent over a screen with graphs. The middle-aged man looked up upon hearing his name being called, and having recognised Taylor he stood up straight and stretched his back. "Yes. Can I help you?"

"This," Taylor cocked her head in my direction, "is a new observer who might shed some light on the case, she has been said to have experience with the Cube." She didn't beat about the bush, that was certain.

Selvig looked me up and down, but in a friendlier way. "Oh really? Then you've come at just the right time." He extended a hand. "Dr. Erik Selvig."  
I glanced at the callous hand, then at Taylor's face, and back at Selvig's. In my mind it took an eternity of internal debate before I finally obeyed the common rules of politeness and shook his hand. "Evelyn Torres."

"A pleasure," Selvig automatically replied. Taylor cast me a calculating look before continuing: "She'll act as an observer and advisor, and will not interfere without permission. I take you have been informed about the details?"

Now I was wondering what she meant by that. Selvig didn't appear afraid or uncomfortable in my presence, so I could safely assume that he was either nuts or S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't told him the entire truth.

"Yes, I have, I don't foresee any major problems," he told Taylor in a not-too-serious voice.

I mentally cursed, if they weren't taken aback by me then people might be tempted to socialize, and that would mean that this was becoming one h*** of a… however long a period of time I'd have to stay here.

"Alright. Good luck, professor." And our beloved guard marched off the site.

Selvig turned back to me. "So, you have experience with the Tesseract you say? How so?"

Letting go of my initial bad mood I allowed my eyes to drift through the lab, to eventually be drawn once again to the alluring hypercube. My voice was flat when I answered: "I used to work around Tesseract-powered weaponry."

To my surprise he didn't seem fazed by that fact. "I see. Do you know how they work?"  
"Yeah."  
"Ah, then we could use your help. You see…" He then launched into a description of project PEGASUS (not the name though) and gave me a little tour around the lab. The scientists working there were all super serious, as expected of them. 16 Scientists were present at this floor, 4 assistants, 9 security guards – ladies and gentlemen, I present you the Alpha shift.

The main goal was to create a harness so as to be able to tap energy from the Tesseract; this would then become an infinite source of energy. If you were to believe Selvig this was a way to open up a whole list of possibilities once thought to be impossible, ranging from travelling at the speed of light to uniting humanity. I myself had my doubts. A lacking necessary evil? Humanity has always shown that there is no such thing as harmony; deep within we are all selfish, and infinite energy wouldn't change that.

Some of his co-workers were also introduced to me: they all appeared to share his ambitions in more or less the same degree. These people had of course been carefully selected for this by S.H.I.E.L.D. and/or NASA. Joy. Some nodded when Selvig introduced them, most however were in the middle of something and their 'I'm busy so leave me alone'-vibe was oozing off them.  
A younger assistant came running up to him with some files halfway through the tour.  
"Professor Selvig, could you please take a look at these stats?"  
As the two of them discussed a few distinctive peaks I noticed a figure on the balustrade halfway near the ceiling, wherefrom two large flags hung – NASA and S.H.I.E.L.D.. It was probably one of the latter's special agents, at least not the average security officer. A sniper? Had there been two or more I wouldn't have paid attention, but only one was kinda peculiar meaning it had to be a well-trusted person. Squatted on their haunches, dark clothes? _This oughtta be fun._

"If you have any questions, feel free to ask," Selvig concluded his tour of 15 minutes. "And, uh, see what you can do, okay?" He nodded in a manner of greeting and returned to his post up in the front. _What the h***_ , I thought as I moved to a side of the lab. _Is S.H.I.E.L.D. run by idiots?_ They must be nuts, to send an ex-assassin of their archenemy to a secret base which contained a possible mass-destruction weapon, and without any clear evidence that I was on their side (which I wasn't, since I was on my own side) they expected me to cooperate in this whole thing? How come they were so certain that I wasn't a spy, or a double-spy? I'd never trust myself, h***, I'd never trust anyone for that matter. Then why were they allowing this? What was their motive? Was this them taking the initiative towards mutual trust, like that mission I never heard of again?

I was standing aside in the shadows and watched the others work. Every once in a while, someone would come up and show or ask Selvig something, who was clearly the most experienced worker – hence he was the one leading this entire operation down here. They had come far already, I noticed. One of the structures they attempted to build somewhat resembled a prototype of an assault rifle's magazine, only larger. The plan was to ejaculate the Tesseract's energy and temporarily store it in those. This was of course easier said than done. First of all, it is widely known you can't just 'store' energy. Second of all, the Tesseract and its energy were nothing to laugh at, they had to be handled with great care and precaution not only due to the power it had, but also the erraticism of the energy. The larger the amount, the more trouble of handling it. Using the assault rifles resembled taming a beast, they used to say at the base. That's why I relied on the normal munition – that, and the fact that the Tesseract's energy had a nasty habit of being luminescent. That doesn't quite help if you're trying to go unnoticed.

At any rate, the first thought there I refused to comply.

By the time the Beta shift took over (guards only) Taylor returned to escort me to my temporary room. The luxury. The buildings on the surface that opposed the building we had exited were apparently designated for sleeping quarters and such. We halted in front of the many beige doors on the top floor. Room 274.

"You report at the lab at seven sharp," miss guard commanded and then left without another word. I followed her with my eyes till she rounded a corner. Her blonde hair swung from side to side in a ponytail at every step. More and more curious this was becoming.  
From where I stood I could overlook the campus-like area we had crossed, between the buildings. Faraway in the distance the sun had begun to set over the desert and the park of satellite dishes, cloaking the entire place in a golden-orange hue with light that reflected off the walls and windows. Apparently, half a day had passed between my arrival and now. Down at the ground people were walking in small groups, chatting and laughing. Among them I recognised three of the scientists that had worked in the lab underground: Rodriguez who analysed energy patterns, Moore who had three majors in chemistry, and Wilson who did electrical engineering. Hardly any vehicles left campus, what said more than enough. There was nothing but savanna around, so it wasn't like there was really something to go to _. Secret project, duh._

Escaping would be easy, but there was no other option than hiding somewhere in the savanna. I knew that wasn't entirely true. Getting out of here was certainly possible, but what would that be to me? It'd cost me much time and energy to, once back in the civilized world, set up a new system now that Ryuu was no longer an option, and I'd have to go to great lengths to get off S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radars. How would that situation benefit me?  
The more time passed and the crazier S.H.I.E.L.D.'s motives became, the more doubt I began to have about that.

I turned away from the glass outer wall with a sigh, and faced the door. When I grabbed the handle it wouldn't open – locked. I tried again, but it wouldn't move an inch. With a thud I let my forehead make contact with the cool surface of the door, mentally cursing. _Stupid door._ Y'all have to understand, I was tired okay. That was why it was only then that I noticed the envelope on the floor. _Stupid envelope._ This wasn't my day, let's keep it to that. Inside the plain white envelope was – surprise – the key. _Stupid security people._ This time the door easily opened, yay. After I'd locked the door behind me (old habit) I stuffed the key in my pocket. Not paying attention to the interior of the room I immediately headed towards the 1x2 bed and let myself fall flat face-first (go alliteration). It wasn't more than the standard room, but _oh man_ that bed was _so_ much better than that stretcher back at the Helicarrier! I figured I could get used to this.

The next day already came an end to my silent protest. I was watching Wilson work on a small side assignment on her own with electronic circuitry. The computer began to emit alarming sounds, but the screen was out of Wilson's arm's range. She couldn't let go of the pair of tweezers she was holding, and looked around with the slightest bit of alarm. And unfortunately I happened to be around.

"Sorry, can you hold these for a moment please?" she asked with an accent. Wilson was a darker woman with brown eyes, black-and-white curly hair and some age spots on her left cheek. She was probably near her late 50s, early 60s?

"..sure?" I automatically replied, and took over her work. How many times hadn't Jack or Yefim or Anton asked me something comparable back in Tokyo and Moskow?

"Thank you." Wilson typed something in the computer. Two variables that had been dropping quickly became stagnant. She handed me a minuscule rheostat. "Please connect this to wires F4 and K1."

I did as asked and connected it to the copper wiring. The variables on screen began to rise back up to 24.358 and 7.012, and Wilson nodded approvingly whilst I placed aside the tweezers.

"Thanks," she said again and looked up from the screen. "If you don' mind: do you know how to handle i2c / SPI character LCD?"

I shrugged. "Who doesn't?"  
"Electrical engineering?"  
"Hmm. Tokyo."  
She whistled lowly. "Neat. San Francisco. I'm Dr. Tammy Wilson by the way." On screen she moved some of the recorded statistics to a different file.  
"Evelyn Torres."  
She began to run different simulations of the current setup. "I overheard you an' Professor Selvig yesterday. You're a watcher, aren't you?"

"Observer," I corrected with a flat voice.

She snorted. "Right. They keep comin' up with new titles. I am supposedly a technician, but you've got to believe me when I say that I am far from tha'. Have you also been assembled by one o' those professional agents 'n suit?"

I cast a thoughtful glance at the shadow near the ceiling. "I suppose you could say that."

"I didn't know what ta think at first when they sent me tha' mail, well, actually I usually get mails from students an' colleagues an' all, but this one was 'confidential'. Ha! It said I was chosen to work 'ere on a so called secret project from the government. I was like sure, I s'pose I could do that, an' one day after I accepted there was an agent a' my door, tellin' me to pack up! But I ain't comlainin', Dr. Selvig is a nice fella, and so are Harley an' Jenson an' what's his name… Giancarlos or somethin'. Ya sleep well?"

For a doctor in electrical engineering she easily trusted other people.

"Hm, yeah sure."

"That's.. good ta hear," she replied, a little put off by my uninterested tone. After that we both remained silent.

I returned to my post against the metal beam on the side of the room to 'observe'. Great job, it really is. You get to watch people working, trying to figure stuff out, testing theories and everything. Soooo interesting. 'Specially when you're not involved in the process. Or actually, not _allowed_ to be involved.  
Within four hours I'd come to the conclusion that S.H.I.E.L.D. was ceeraaayzeee. Wilson was alright, and Selvig probably too, but that Hill woman, Eyepatch and Taylor were getting a reprimand on the uselessness and absurdity of all this. Sure, the Tesseract and everything was nice, but so what?  
Wilson cast me a glance occasionally, but didn't address me again. Selvig was all busy up front. The sniper was still there. Was he bored as well? Hah, he had to be. And cause he had to stay low, that'd mean he had even less moving space. Or did he? I hadn't seen him moving… Was he even awake? Ugh, this was illogical. Of course he was awake, what else was the use of a sniper?

I mentally sighed and tapped my upper leg. _What to do, what to do…_

A high-pitched ring startled me from thought. As if on cue about half of the people left their work for what it was and left the hangar-space-room. Wilson also put the simulators to automatic.  
"Lunch hour a' last," she sighed what I thought to be to herself, but then she continued talking in my direction. "Them morning shifts are way too long, I daresay. Seven till twelve? As if they're tryin'a make us work to death." She saw me looking. "Oh, yeah, right. Serious type, aren't ya?" she added under her breath, before she joined a group of three who passed us.

 _Oh_ fine, _what harm is there in lunch? I could use some coffee._

I imagined the guards followed me with their gazes when I moved away from my home beam and tagged after the groups out of the dome. Some were carrying trays, plastic bags with their lunch or bottles of water, but most were empty-handed, like me. Footsteps echoed through the halls, back up the white staircase and all the way back from where we had come that morning. Not by lift, _thank goodness._ No _freaking_ way that I was gonna get in a stuffed elevator. No offence, but _personal space_ is a thing.

Instead, we were headed to what mirrored a dead end hallway, with high-school-like tables and chairs – at least, from what I could see from where I stood. And oh joy-to-the-world, at was crowded as heck. Wilson & co made their wat to the queue outside the room followed by scientists and guards alike.  
I lingered near the entrance, caught in an internal debate.  
 _Iff there's this much people I'm not going.  
_ _But how about that coffee?_ my stomach complained. _  
_ _Forget it, I'm not going. I never asked for an old ladies' tea party in the first place.  
_ _You can sit apart.  
_ _They're bound to go talk to me, them self-indulgent happy-go-lucky types.  
_ _But how about lunch?  
_ _But people.  
_ _But food._

Fortunately someone else took the decision for me.


End file.
